In Memory's Wake
by cocoa-snape
Summary: Through hardship, Snape and Harry have found each other. But as Snape’s demons reemerge, can their relationship survive? And when the unthinkable happens, Harry begins to wonder whether Snape wants to forget or needs to. HPSS Slash, Sequel to LotDSoM
1. Detention

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary**: Through trial and hardship, Snape and Harry have finally found each other. But as Snape's demons reemerge, can their tenuous relationship survive? And when the unthinkable happens, Harry begins to wonder whether Snape wants to forget or needs to.

This story is the sequel to and opens four weeks after 'Light on the Dark Side of Me.' Not HBP/DH-compliant.

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**Story Warnings**: Slash (m/m), angst, non-con/rape, explicit sex, language, violence

**Chapter Warnings**: non-con/rape, dubious consent, spanking, humiliation

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**In Memory's Wake  
**by  
**CocoaSnape**

It was not something he would soon forget. Flying off the handle and snapping at Snape. Now Harry had a detention.

And not just any detention. A Friday evening detention held during the first Quidditch match of the new term. Ravenclaw was a tough team to beat, but Hufflepuff had promised victory with the reassignment of its Seeker. As the Gryffindor Seeker and Captain, Harry Potter had been especially anxious to evaluate the competition.

He knew Snape's choice of holding his detention during this pivotal game was no coincidence. When it came to Harry, the man was practically an artist at deducing and delivering the most painful punishment. And over the years, Snape had succeeded in making too many moments of Harry's tour at Hogwarts miserable. Now, in the second term of his seventh year, Harry cursed the Auror requirements once more, which mandated he take a N.E.W.T. in Potions.

Realizing he was already two minutes late, Harry quickened his pace, taking the steps leading down to the dungeon corridor two at a time. He winced as he caught sight of who was heading toward him, Draco Malfoy, the very cause of his detention in the first place. Malfoy had hexed his cauldron, causing it to explode and coat half the classroom with whatever putrid potion they had been brewing. Of course his explanations to Professor Snape of that fact had fallen on deaf ears.

Malfoy, surrounded by his usual cronies, was heavily bundled in a coat and clearly on his way to the game. He did not miss the chance to further provoke his nemesis.

"Not going to the game then, Potter?"

Harry didn't bother with a reply.

"It must really suck, Potter. I hex your cauldron and _you _end up with the detention."

A couple of years ago, a couple of months ago even, Harry would have been incensed by Malfoy's attitude. But now, Malfoy was nothing more than a nuisance to him. He stepped past the trio of Slytherins and made to continue down the hall without a word.

But Malfoy was not to be deterred from his goal of starting a fight with him. The blonde-haired boy stepped in front of Harry and goaded "You just can't stand it that I always get my way."

Harry gave a noncommittal shrug.

Apparently his indifference only fueled Malfoy's anger. "Admit it, Potter, you hate it that no one gives a damn anymore about that Boy-Who-Lived tripe." Malfoy leaned in and continued smugly, "Now I'm the one getting all the attention. I don't know if you've heard, but my father is planning a gala for my eighteenth birthday. Everyone's going to be there, the Minister, the Board of Governors, half of the Quidditch All Star team. In fact, Professor Snape just owled to tell me he wouldn't dream of missing it. You can't tell me that doesn't drive you crazy!"

This Harry could not let alone. "That's rich! Like I'd ever want to be that greasy bastard's favorite."

"You watch your mouth," Malfoy spat, clearly angered by the insult against his Head of House.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to do that," Harry muttered cynicallyand turned to walk away. Now he was at least five minutes late.

Almost instinctively, Harry felt the hex leave Malfoy's wand. He hadn't even turned around, or heard the curse Malfoy had fired in his direction. But that didn't matter. Concentrating on his magic, and with just the slightest touch to the wand in his pocket, Harry managed to conjure a shield reflection charm, a complex piece of defensive magic that the other boy was clearly not expecting. The curse rebounded off of Harry and hit Malfoy squarely in the chest, throwing him violently against the wall.

When Harry turned around, Malfoy was lying in a heap on the floor, trying to collect himself. Crabbe was staring at Harry incredulously and Goyle had a look of absolute terror in his eyes at the thought that Harry might do the same to him. Harry couldn't help but smirking at them, but the smirk was instantly wiped off his face at the next voice he heard.

"Potter!!"

_Oh crap._

A dark figure in billowing robes had emerged from the end of the hall as Crabbe and Goyle were pulling a stunned looking Malfoy to his feet.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," the unmistakable voice drawled.

"What?" Harry protested. "But sir, he—"

"I don't care to hear your excuses, Potter."

"Thanks, Professor," Malfoy responded, as he dusted off his robes. "Potter just attacked—"

"I don't much care to hear yours either, Mr. Malfoy."

"But sir," Crabbe accused, "he just did some sort of Dark magic."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Snape scoffed. "Potter wouldn't know Dark magic if it bit him in the arse."

Harry frowned at that proclamation, but said nothing.

"Now, the three of you, straight off to the game," Snape said, gesturing at the three Slytherins. "And you _Mister Potter_," Snape added in a low menacing voice, "You're with me."

Malfoy threw him a victorious smirk, but Harry didn't care. He knew very well that Malfoy was still wondering how he'd been the one to end up lying helplessly on the floor.

As they made their way into the classroom, Harry seethed at the unfair loss of House points. "Sir, Malfoy tried to hex me; I just blocked it. He's the one who should lose points!"

"This is the second time in as many days that you have spoken out of turn, Potter. Who precisely do you think you are?"

Snape did not let Harry answer, however, but continued mockingly, "Oh yes, I remember…the _star _of the Wizarding World. The Boy-Who-Always-Gets-His-Way."

"I do not always get my way!" Harry replied furiously.

"And yet, you continue to interrupt me, you insolent boy. Your arrogance never ceases to astonish. You think you know better than everyone else; you always have."

The words seemed to spark an idea in Snape's mind, as a smile suddenly touched the corners of his mouth. It was not at all a reassuring sight.

"If you feel so confident to repeatedly question my judgment, perhaps we should see if you can do better." Snape pointed to his desk and said, "Go and sit up there then."

Harry glanced over at the Professor's desk. "I'm fine here, sir," he declined.

"Go and sit," Snape ordered in a low voice that convinced Harry it was best not to argue.

However reluctantly, Harry obeyed, taking the three steps up onto the dais on which the desk sat. He stood there uncertainly.

"Does this satisfy your megalomania, Potter?"

Snape appeared to have calmed down, but this abrupt change in attitude only further alarmed Harry. "Professor, I don't think I should be—"

"SIT down!"

Harry pulled the chair away from the desk and sat. He had to admit, everything looked different from here. He was looking down on the classroom, and for probably the first time in his life, on Snape. A new experience to say the least.

"Now," Snape continued softly, "do enlighten me, Potter. What punishment would you give yourself if you were in my place?"

"It wasn't my fault."

"Of course it wasn't. It never is," Snape mocked. "And to what of your other infractions over the years? Surely you can't deny your culpability there? Go on and amuse me, Potter. What would you do in my place with your disobedient attitude?"

Harry gulped. He supposed he had to say something. "A detention maybe?" he suggested weakly.

"Ah, but you've had your fair share of those, haven't you? And yet you continue to misbehave and be an insufferable little brat. So tell me, Potter, what would you do now?" Snape asked in a calm tone.

Harry had to admit, this whole situation, Snape's demeanor especially, was really beginning to freak him out. He had no idea what to say.

"No brilliant suggestions, I see. Now you're beginning to appreciate my dilemma, Potter. But I'm still waiting for a satisfactory answer, or I assure you, I will supply my own," Snape threatened.

"I don't know what you want me to say!" Harry said irritably.

"Another detention for your cheek."

Harry sighed angrily.

"Next Saturday," Snape added with a triumphant smirk.

"But sir," Harry protested, "that's a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Precisely."

"You're being completely unfair!" Harry snapped.

"No more Hogsmeade for the rest of the year."

Outraged, Harry shot up from the chair. "What?! But this is my last term!" Realizing his error, he reluctantly finished with, "…sir."

"And I fully intend to make it as unbearable as possible for you, Potter."

Harry couldn't believe this! Suddenly he wondered, could Snape even do that? Take away Hogsmeade weekends for an entire term?

"I can do anything I want, Potter."

Harry's mouth fell open. "I…" He hadn't said anything aloud. Was Snape reading his mind?

Snape stared smugly at him in reply.

How dare he?! _'The malicious bastard!'_

"For that, Potter, no more Quidditch!"

"What? I didn't say anything!"

Snape sneered, "But you fully expected me to hear it, you arrogant arse."

"You can't take away Quidditch!" Harry exploded.

"Can't I?" Snape said with a vindictive smile. "It's going to be a miserable year for you, Potter. No Quidditch, no Hogsmeade, and detention _every_ Saturday…with me."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh. Did I forget to mention that?" Snape taunted vindictively.

"You sadistic arsehole!…" _Bloody hell!_ He had said _that_ aloud.

Snape was up the stairs so fast, Harry had barely seen him move. The next thing Harry knew, Snape had grabbed and shoved him down against the desk, slamming his chest hard against the wood.

"I'm going to make you regret ever opening that foul little mouth of yours, Potter," Snape spat menacingly.

Harry was still trying to catch his breath from the force of the impact. He struggled to get up but Snape was holding him down with a firm grip on the hair on the base of his neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape pulling a large paddle out of his desk drawer.

"Pull down your trousers," Snape ordered.

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "What??"

"You heard me, Potter."

Harry did not move. There was no way in hell he was going to let Snape spank him!

And then, "Ow!" Snape had hit him! And very hard at that.

"Your trousers, right now!"

"But, sir…" Harry pleaded. Harry turned his head and caught sight of Snape, who looked positively murderous.

"Don't make me ask you again."

Harry complied, his throat suddenly tight. This was absolutely mortifying. But he knew better than to defy the man. He pulled down his trousers carefully, adjusting his boxers to make sure they didn't slip down. He couldn't believe Snape was actually going to spank him. And judging by the cruel smirk on his face, he was going to enjoy it as well. This was bad. It was made worse still when Harry heard Snape lock and ward the classroom door.

"I should have done this ages ago," Snape hissed, before delivering the first blow.

The strike was so forceful it shoved Harry into the desk.

"You deserve a caning for the trouble you've given me," Snape growled.

Another blow. _Oh god it hurt!_

"I'm so sick and tired of your disrespectful attitude… you arrogant little whelp!"

Another blow – this one even harder.

"Bloody hell," Harry spat out under his breath in lieu of a scream, determined not to let Snape know how much this hurt.

"Language, Potter," Snape admonished with an air of amusement. "Should I add that to your list of infractions as well?"

Harry would have laughed if he wasn't in so much pain. What the hell else could Snape possibly do to him? The blows rained down along with Snape's insults with stunning intensity. Harry's eyes prickled with tears as he tried to stifle his gasps at the ache in his reddened backside.

After what felt like hours, but must have been a few minutes at most, Harry was beginning to wonder if Snape had let up. Either that or he was just becoming used to it, the pain now transforming into a dull ache as his body flooded with endorphins. The motion of his body against the sloped desk now familiar, almost comforting.

In one insane moment, Harry thought that this wasn't actually that bad and hoped the spanking would be enough to satisfy Snape. Hoping that after this, Snape would forget or forgive the rest of the punishments – loss of Quidditch and Hogsmeade, and detentions every Saturday. But Harry knew better. This was _Snape_, after all. And given what he had said to the man, he realized he would be lucky to get out of the dungeons in one piece.

Another few blows with the paddle, these against the back of his thighs, sent a whirling heat up into him. Realization caused his face to burn bright red. He was becoming hard. _It couldn't be!_ In a panic, he squirmed to get away, but Snape held him steady. Each stroke that hit him now forced his body to slide against the smooth wooden surface of the desk, only serving to expand his problem. His face was on fire now. He tried desperately to rationalize what was happening. He was a hormonal teenager after all, and this sort of thing was prone to happen. But how humiliating!

Harry quickly recognized, however, that the understanding of the why could wait for another time. Right now he had a major problem, and he had to focus on figuring out a way to hide it when Snape finished spanking him.

Another minute later Snape stopped, and Harry heard him throw the paddle aside.

"Have you had enough?"

"Yes sir," Harry managed to reply after clearing his throat. Thank god this was over. Thank Merlin Snape hadn't noticed! To think he'd originally planned on petitioning Snape to lighten his sentence. Now he just wanted to get out of here as fast as humanly possible.

In a choked voice, Harry asked, "Can I go now, sir?" And then added hastily, "I'm sorry for what I said before…it won't happen again."

"I'm quite sure it won't, Potter."

Harry waited, but Snape still had not dismissed him, or given him permission to pull up his trousers. "So can I go then?"

"It seems that we now have a new problem, Potter."

"Sir?"

"That rod between your legs."

Harry winced in shame and instinctively reached to pull up his trousers, but Snape stilled him.

Merlin this was too embarrassing!

"How interesting," Snape began with an almost pensive air, "the Golden Boy enjoys spankings."

Please let this be the worst nightmare ever, Harry thought.

"This is quite the surprise. To think, I thought I was punishing you, and here you have you been enjoying your detention all along."

"No," Harry managed through what sounded very much like a sob.

"No? You haven't been enjoying it?" Snape asked sarcastically. "I think _this_," Snape continued, as he reached across and grabbed Harry's erection through his boxers, "…says otherwise, don't you?"

Harry gasped and managed an affronted, "What are you doing?" but his body betrayed him.

"My my…we are a twisted young man, aren't we?" Snape taunted.

"Please, sir," Harry managed through his shock, "I'm sorry."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were being deliberately disobedient."

"I swear I'm not…" Harry made another effort to pull up his trousers, but was once again stopped by Snape's hand on his back.

"What is it that's got you so…bothered?" Snape asked, his tone almost analytical in nature, as though he were not in the least surprised that Harry had had this reaction. "Is it the…stimulation, or perhaps it is the _humiliation _of it."

Harry swallowed roughly.

He felt Snape take a step closer behind him and lean forward, his breath tickling the shell of his ear as he spoke, "Do you like this, Mister Potter? Being spanked in the middle of my classroom? Being humiliated? Is that what has you suddenly so…attentive?"

Harry throat tightened at Snape's words. The truth was, he had no idea…but he didn't care. He just needed to get out of here.

"If you want to leave," Snape said harshly, interrupting Harry's thoughts, "you'll have to answer my question." A pause, and then Snape added in a somewhat different voice, tinged with more curiosity than malice, "I'd like to know."

Harry didn't know, and even if he did, he certainly couldn't think straight enough to formulate an answer.

"Well, which one is it?"

When Harry did not answer, Snape prodded, "Surely it can't be your greasy, ah…what is it you said, sadistic arsehole of a Potions professor?"

Harry took a slow breath and then shook his head.

"No, I didn't think so."

"Can I go now, sir?" Harry asked, raising himself up.

"You are not yet dismissed, Potter," Snape snapped, and pushed Harry back down against the desk. The pressure crushed his arousal against it, and despite himself, Harry let out a moan. He was so hard.

Snape leaned forward, and his voice sounded almost sympathetic, but Harry knew better. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

_Hell yes, it hurt._

"I can take care of it for you…"

_What? _Harry started at that. Snape couldn't have just said what he thought he said. With growing anxiety, Harry pleaded, "Please, sir, I think I just need to go to bed."

"That wasn't intended as a question, you insolent boy."

And not a moment later, Snape's hand snaked its way into his boxers.

Harry reeled. Part of him wanted to run, get his wand and hex Snape. The other part, however, was responding with groans and heated gasps as Snape worked him like a master, rubbing his length with sure, firm strokes.

He heard Snape chuckling behind him, no doubt enjoying his submission, but by now Harry was too far gone to care – the sensations swimming over him were too exquisite. Snape was twisting his hand on each upstroke, delivering an intensity of sensation that was almost painful, but not quite. It was driving Harry to the brink of madness. And in that moment, it didn't matter that Snape was the one doing it. He needed this; he needed this so badly.

Harry could feel Snape pulling his boxers down, but by the time he was coherent enough to protest, Snape had already pressed a slick finger inside him. Harry started, releasing a squeak at the sudden penetration and tried to move away. But Snape held him still and intensified his heavenly stroking.

And suddenly, a burst of lightning surged through him as Snape touched him just so. Harry howled at the sensation, releasing a string of incoherencies under his breath. He was aware that he was moaning, and loudly at that – it left him mortified at how good this felt.

Snape was cackling behind him now, enraptured in perverse glee. "Still going to argue you aren't enjoying yourself, hmm? Look at the wanton little slut you are, writhing on my finger." A pause, and then he asked suggestively, "Would you like it to be something else, Potter?"

The thought sent a frisson of fear straight down Harry's spine, but he was almost there. Not a moment later, Harry came, shuddering shamelessly as he grasped the far edge of the desk to steady himself against the force of his climax.

His body slumped against the desk in exhaustion. It took only a moment before his head cleared enough to realize what had just happened. What had just happened…_with Snape_. Oh god! His body curled up in shame.

He could hear the creak of a chair behind him, and knew that Snape had taken a seat.

"This has been quite the illuminating detention, Potter."

Quite. He needed to get out of here and obliviate himself as soon as possible.

"You may stand up, Potter."

Finally! Harry wanted to pull up his trousers, but he knew Snape wanted to twist every last ounce of humiliation out of him before allowing him to do so, so he waited.

"Now," Snape continued, "sit down."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion, turning his head slightly around.

"Eyes front, Potter!"

Harry obeyed, but by now was hyperventilating. He had seen enough. Snape seated in the chair, his erection jutting out from his opened trousers.

This wasn't happening. This could not be happening.

"Sir, I'm sorry I said those things you earlier. I was way out of line. But please don't—" Harry began frantically.

"Potter, I've had enough of your pathetic apologies. Now you best do as you are told and sit."

"Please, sir, I've never…" Harry couldn't finish the sentence.

But if he was hoping to inspire Snape's sympathy, he was deadly mistaken.

"A virgin?" Snape asked disbelievingly, his voice on the edge of laughter. "You've got to be kidding me, Potter." A pause and then Snape was deadly serious again. "But then let this be your first lesson in sex: don't ever expect satisfaction without being prepared to give it in return."

Harry turned around, hoping to reason with Snape but froze at the heated violating gaze on Snape's face. Harry's stare dropped and his eyes bulged at what he saw.

"Turn around!" Snape bellowed.

Harry obeyed at once, his stomach now twisted in knots.

"Professor, I'm begging you—"

"Begging, eh? Would you prefer to get down on your knees instead then?" Snape asked darkly. "That might be a nice preamble."

_Oh god._

Snape began to laugh. It was not at all pleasant…harsh, almost cruel.

"Professor, please don't make me…"

"Don't make _me _ask you again, Potter, or you will regret it."

He didn't want this. First of all, this was Snape. Second, he'd heard the first time was supposed to hurt, and dear god Snape was _huge_. And weren't you supposed to prepare for this sort of thing? No, Harry realized, he _really_ did not want this. Surely Snape didn't really intend of forcing him. It seemed that way sure, but he was probably just being cruel – drawing out this tortuous charade as long as possible to prolong Harry's terror. There was no way he would actually rape a student.

"Sir, I—"

True to his word, Snape was on feet in an instant. He wound a fist in Harry's hair and yanked him roughly back against his chest.

Harry grit his teeth as Snape pulled him back, forcing him to bend backwards so far, he found himself balancing on the tips of his toes.

As though he'd been reading Harry's mind earlier – maybe he was – Snape said, "Contrary to what you might believe, I'm not simply drawing this out as a threat. I can't believe you'd think me that kind, Potter. No, you're going to do this. Consider it…the rest of your _punishment. _A duly deserved one at that." Snape's voice lowered to a silky whisper, "I myself have been wanting this for a very long time, and I will not be deprived of this golden opportunity. Now sit down!"

Panicked, Harry scrambled towards his robe, trying to find his wand.

"I have it, Potter. It's no use."

Somehow that made it real. His wand had been taken from him. Snape wasn't playing games. He intended on doing this. He struggled harder this time.

But to no avail. Snape tightened his grip further, causing Harry's eyes to tear. His mouth was right next to Harry's ear as he spoke. "Stop fighting and do what I say. Don't make me pull you down," Snape threatened. "I assure you, I would enjoy it very much. You, on the other hand, would not."

Harry was heaving deep breaths as he took in Snape's words. And yet he seemed to be suffocating.

"Do you understand?" When no answer came, he snapped, "Yes or no?"

"Yes."

Snape released him and slowly moved to sit back in the chair. Grabbing hold of Harry's hands, he placed them on the arms of the chair.

"Spread your legs and bend your knees."

Reluctantly and slowly, Harry did as he was told.

"Now sit."

Harry took a moment before complying, trying to figure a way out of this, but quickly realizing he was out of options. Snape would make good on his threat, and then he'd end up badly injured. Harry took a steadying breath and began to sit as slowly as possible, trying not to think about what was happening.

The next thing he knew Snape had snaked a hand under his shirt and began to tease his nipples. When Harry felt the resultant waves of arousal sweep down his body, he tried to blame it on teenage hormones, on the adrenaline coursing through his body. But he realized that Snape was right. He was twisted.

When Harry first felt Snape's erection against him, he jerked away. But he was quickly stilled by Snape squeezing his left nipple between his fingernails, eliciting a mewl of pain from him as he wondered if Snape had drawn blood. With far too much skill, Snape held him firmly with just one arm.

"Not nearly as eager as you were before I see. Where's that Gryffindor courage?" Snape mocked.

Harry remained silent.

"Sit down," Snape ordered.

Another breath before Harry braced himself against the arms of the chair and started to sit. Instantly, Harry knew he hadn't been ready for the pain. Tears welled up heavy in his eyes, until he could see nothing in front of him.

Harry grunted through the burn, biting his lip in an effort to remain silent. He did his best not to jerk away, the sweat pouring down his face as he took a few deep breaths. He paused for what seemed like an eternity, but oddly enough Snape did not say a word to hurry him along.

When the pain had subsided somewhat, Harry continued to sit, hyperaware of the noises Snape was making. By this point, the man had relaxed his hold on Harry and was groaning in pleasure behind him.

When Harry was almost seated, he quickly wiped the tears leaking out of his eyes before Snape could see them and taunt him further. When he moved to sit all the way down, Snape stilled him with a hand, almost gentle, on his back. "Now back up."

Harry obeyed.

The second time was nowhere near as painful as the first, and as the command came from behind him to move a bit faster, Harry obeyed, no longer wondering why he was listening to everything Snape told him without argument, without struggle.

"Tilt forward just a little bit," Snape instructed.

On the next down stroke Harry yelped, sucking in deep gulps of air as the pressure on that spot inside him sent frissons of pleasure down to his groin. Almost without thought, Harry sped up his movements.

Suddenly a low hiss came from Snape, the words almost affectionate, "Good boy."

Harry felt the strangest sensation erupt in his chest at those words. He couldn't have described it if he'd tried. He kept up his movements, steadily increasing the pace as Snape's moans became louder.

"Faster. That's it…just…like…that. Such a good boy."

Harry thought he should have been gagging then, sick to his stomach at this perverse praise. But his arousal only grew with each passing second. Not from Snape's words – but from infernal, wonderful spot he kept hitting. That had to be it, Harry told himself. It had to be. The tears were falling freely now, but there was no more pain.

"Do you know why I'm having you do this?" Snape asked, his voice strangled and deliberate as if the words required too much concentration to formulate. "Because you'll always remember that you're the one moving up and down on me…"

Harry whimpered in shame before nearly screaming in pleasure when Snape reached around him and took him in his hand.

"And now I see why," Snape said. "You're hard as a rock."

Without warning, Snape stood up, shoving Harry forcefully against the desk, pressing their bodies flush, whispering against his neck. "I was right, wasn't I? You do crave this…being used like this."

_Oh god_. Goosebumps rose all down his neck at the hot breath in his ear.

"At least the next time such nasty words come out of your mouth…I'll know how to stop them. And you'd like it, wouldn't you?"

Harry groaned and clawed at the wood underneath his fingers.

"…Using you for my pleasure," Snape grunted darkly. "Such a naughty little thing…"

By now Snape had pinned Harry flat against the desk, which was making as much noise as both of them, creaking with each movement. Papers flew and inkwells tumbled, shattering at their feet.

"Such a dirty…dirty boy you are," Snape murmured obscenely.

Harry lost it then, shuddering helplessly against Snape's desk.

Snape did not still his movements for even a second and moments later came with almost a scream.

Snape sagged on top of the young body beneath him for a moment before leaning back and collapsing in the chair behind him, taking Harry down with him into his lap. His arms reached out and closed around Harry, holding him – almost protectively, lovingly.

"Are you alright?"

Harry mumbled an assent as Snape placed a kiss on the back of his neck.

"Is that what you wanted?" Snape asked softly.

"Perfect," Harry managed. "Damn that was…god I love you."

The arms tightened their hold.

"I'm going to pass out now, Severus," Harry warned as he let his head fall back against Snape's shoulder.

Snape chuckled behind him. "I'll take care of you."

Snape whispered a warming charm and planted a series of soft kisses along Harry's brow, lulling him into a deep satiated sleep.

_to be continued…_

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_**Author's Note:**_ This little role-play scenario is the first chapter of my Sequel to _Light of the Dark Side of Me_. Harry and Severus are in an established relationship. But I promise much angst! (Could I deliver anything else?) _In Memory's Wake_ opens in late January of Harry's last year. Four weeks has passed since the end of _Light on the Dark Side of Me_.

While this chapter can easily be read alone, I highly recommend reading the prequel before beginning the rest of the story.

This chapter is censored on this website. To read the full version, visit my profile page which will present you to two options (my LJ or skyehawke).

Thank you to my betas Snapes Nightie and Molvanian Queen-In-Exile for their advice.

Feedback is always appreciated.


	2. The argument

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary**: Through trial and hardship, Snape and Harry have finally found each other. But as Snape's demons reemerge, can their tenuous relationship survive? And when the unthinkable happens, Harry begins to wonder whether Snape wants to forget or needs to.

This story is the sequel to and opens four weeks after 'Light on the Dark Side of Me.' It is not HBP/DH-compliant. Dumbledore will also figure prominently in this tale.

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**Story Warnings**: Slash (m/m), angst, non-con/rape, explicit sex, language, violence

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**In Memory's Wake  
**by  
**CocoaSnape**

Harry awoke with a smile on his face. He was in Severus's bed, or their bed, as he had now come to think of it. He loved it here – the quiet, the crackling fire, and most of all, Severus's body near him, although at the moment his lover was not in the room. In only a matter of weeks, Harry had become so accustomed to his time in these quarters, he had grown to hate sleeping in Gryffindor Tower. Fortunately, he was allowed to spend nearly all his weeknights here on the guise that he was staying in the hospital wing for nightmares. It was a clever cover story that Dumbledore himself had devised and Harry was extraordinarily grateful.

The weekends, however, were a different story. The parties seemed almost endless, particularly amongst the seventh years, and Harry's absence from social events was already verging on conspicuous. As a result, he was forced to make a show of being present in the common room and the tower on the weekends. And even though it was only two nights a week, those evenings away from Severus felt like torture of the worst kind.

He and Severus may have only been together for a month, but it felt like a great deal longer. Perhaps it was the lengthy road they had taken, the obstacles they had overcome to get to this point that made it seem so. Or maybe it was because they'd been living together for weeks beforehand during the Christmas holidays. That forced confinement (a crazy scheme perpetrated by Dumbledore) had, in fact, forced the pair to communicate about the most difficult of issues in ways that would take most couples years.

Yes, Harry thought, 'content' was definitely the word he would use to describe his life at the moment. Of course there was, and always had been, that looming question of if and when the final confrontation with Voldemort would occur. But now, knowing Severus would be by his side made all the difference and had enabled Harry to put the thought out of his mind and _really_ enjoy his life for perhaps the first time. There was something incredibly comforting in knowing you'd found the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with. Harry had, and he could see himself waking in these quarters from today onward and being the happiest man alive for it.

If there was any pressure in his life, it was Severus taking over Hermione's role of suggesting he study for his N.E.W.T.s and give more thought to what he wanted to do for a career. Harry had no idea. He'd do his best on the N.E.W.T.s, of course. Severus would be livid otherwise. But Harry wasn't caught up in the seventh year mania to plan the course of the rest of one's life in the next few months. He had Severus, and everything else was gravy to him now.

Harry reached for his glasses on the nightstand and called out for Severus. A few moments later, the dark haired man entered the room carrying a tray.

"Good morning."

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

"Still early. We have a few more hours."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. On Saturdays, he had Quidditch practice right after lunch. After that, he'd need to make himself visible in the Gryffindor common room. And so, it had fast become their tradition to wake up early on Saturday and spend a few quiet hours together before Harry 'left' for the weekend.

Severus sat down on the bed next to Harry and placed the breakfast tray on his lap.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the assortment of bacon, eggs, sausage, and toast. "What did I do to deserve this?" he asked. Severus had never brought him breakfast in bed before. "I think I should be the one serving you after last night."

"Are you feeling alright?" Severus asked with concern.

Ah, so there was his answer. Severus felt guilty and not a little bit anxious. "Severus, stop being silly," Harry began, stuffing a massive bite of eggs into his mouth.

"I think I might have hurt you, Harry. I'm sorry, I was trying to—"

"Please me? Yes, I know. It's exactly what I wanted. Besides, I'm not even sore." Harry paused as realization dawned. "You healed me, didn't you?"

"Well, I certainly wasn't going to leave you like that."

"You could have, you know. That might have been nice, actually," Harry remarked with a smile, shoving two large pieces of bacon and a sliver of toast into his mouth.

"Why do you always eat like you're starving?" Severus asked in a vexed tone, completely belied by the softness in his eyes. Merlin, he'd fallen hard for this young man.

"Maybe because I am. Did you eat?"

"Yes, and a good thing too, otherwise there'd be nothing left," Snape replied with a smirk. The truth was, he rather enjoyed watching Harry eat. The young man took such pleasure in it. It was quite endearing, or at least it had become so to Severus.

"Would you like some more toast?" Severus asked.

Harry looked up and smiled. It was moments like this where the oddity of the situation struck him – the conscious recognition of how lucky he was. He and Severus were together and in love. Only a few months earlier Severus (Snape then) had been an utter arse, the bane of his existence. And now, that very same man was offering him toast and enacting elaborate sexual fantasies all in an effort to please him.

Harry had hinted off and on that he was interested in that particular role-play. The idea was based on a detention fantasy he'd written in his journal many months before the pair had gotten together. After a few weeks of Severus consistently ignoring his requests, however, Harry had taken the hint and stopped asking. But then, on the toes of their one-month anniversary, Severus had asked Harry if he was still interested in the fantasy. Harry had jumped at the chance.

In their time together, they hadn't gone anywhere near that type of sexual play. Sure, Severus could be forceful in bed – he was as demanding a lover as he was generous. He was always tender, and never, ever cruel – even when they just had sex, Severus always made Harry feel they were making love.

And so, it wasn't out of a want for 'more' that had led Harry back to that particular fantasy. He had everything he wanted, and he knew without doubt that Severus was an utter genius in the sack. But there was something about the fact that this had been his very first fantasy of his professor that made it something he wanted to experience – a fantasy forged at a time when Snape hated him, and all Harry could have imagined was a quick, forceful fuck.

The funny thing was, for all his hesitation, Severus had performed the part better than Harry could have envisioned himself. Severus had taken the general idea from the journal entry – the insults, the spanking against his desk, being taken against his will – but he had crafted the remainder of the scenario himself. Harry hadn't even known how much the dirty language would turn him on. But somehow Severus did.

The one thing Harry should have known was that Severus always anticipated his needs better than he did himself.

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Once breakfast was cleared, Severus climbed into bed and asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "So, what would you like to do this morning?"

"Hmm, let me think," Harry replied with mock uncertainty before reaching over to pull off Severus's robe.

Severus stopped him. "You have to ask for it, Harry."

"What? Oh. Are you serious?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Lessons in bed?!" At Severus's stern glance he sighed, "Fine! But I think it's got to be against the rules somewhere that you're bribing me with sex!"

Severus smiled as he replied, "If I didn't, Harry, you wouldn't do your lessons at all."

Harry couldn't disagree. He took a moment, then fixed his gaze directly at Severus's eyes, concentrating on forging a connection between them. It took him nearly half a minute, but he finally managed to convey his naughty thoughts to his lover.

"I trust you are aware that you're asking an awful lot for the time allotted. But…" Severus continued with a smile, "seeing as you deserve a reward, I will do my best."

"A reward? For sending you my thoughts?" Harry asked.

"Don't be ridiculous. In that time you should have been able to send me all the thoughts in your head. And that required entirely too much eye contact on your part."

"So what's the reward for then?"

"For that phenomenal shield charm you raised against Malfoy last night," Severus whispered softly while pressing a line of delicate kisses along Harry's neck.

"Oh," Harry groaned. "I was…beginning…to think…you'd forgotten."

"Harry, you should know by now…" Severus replied silkily as he removed his and Harry's robes, "I forget _nothing_."

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Snape stroked Harry's hair as he slept. Harry did make a habit of passing out after they made love, and Snape ribbed him for it, calling Harry the 'old man' in their relationship. In reply, Harry would simply say something to the effect of, 'I can't help it if I have an amazing lover who makes me pass out from pleasure.' That always shut Snape up – far be it for him to correct Harry's opinion on the matter. It was very important to him that he satisfied Harry in every way, physically and emotionally. Given the roller coaster he'd put Harry through over the past few months, he wanted to make sure Harry wanted for nothing ever again.

That was the reason he'd gone through with the role-playing fantasy last night. Harry had pointed out the entry in his journal on many an occasion and hinted that he was interested enacting some version of it.

Snape hadn't been too keen on the idea of a fantasy involving force, but given it was their one-month anniversary, he decided to put asides his reservations and do this for Harry. Other than his own moral qualms with such a blatant misuse of his classroom, Snape realized that there was no real reason not to give Harry what he desired. It was just a fantasy after all. He had by now recovered fully from his experiences with the Dark Lord and he was doing exceptionally well these days. No reason to make an issue out of nothing. Besides, Snape considered, it was a one-time thing. What harm could it possibly do?

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Harry woke slowly for the second time that morning, but this time, he could feel a warm body pressed against him. He snuggled closer to Severus and sighed happily. He didn't want to move. He knew it was getting late and he'd have to be leaving soon. And that meant three days away from Severus until Monday evening.

At least he had Potions first thing Monday morning and would see Severus then._ Oh. _Potions would be interesting indeed after what they'd done, Harry considered. Harry's mind focused on the exquisite spanking Severus had delivered last night, and then the image of his lover taking him forcefully against his own desk. It took mere moments before Harry was growing hard against Severus's leg.

"You are incorrigible," came the velvety drawl from somewhere above him.

"It's why you love me."

"That is very true," Snape replied with a chuckle.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you, Severus, how totally amazing last night was."

"I'm glad you found it enjoyable."

"It was more than enjoyable. It was bloody brilliant. You're a genius, you know."

"I am aware," Snape replied, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Stop it," Harry said as he playfully swatted at Severus. He sat up and put on his glasses. "So do you think we can do that again sometime?"

Snape tensed. "Do what, precisely?"

"You know, the role-play."

"Harry, I thought we were clear on that."

"I know, but, come on, Severus, how hard could it have been? I mean, you must have wanted to do that to me for the past six and a half years."

At the outraged look on Severus's face, Harry hastened to explain, "I mean the spanking part!"

Snape relaxed slightly. "You've deserved a spanking for that many years," Snape replied trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm not disagreeing with you. And now you can make up for lost time," Harry encouraged.

"Harry, I am perfectly happy to spank you anytime you like in our quarters. But never again in my classroom."

"Oh. But why not?"

"It's inappropriate for a Hogwarts faculty member to be engaging in such behavior. I don't think Albus would approve."

"He wouldn't care."

"Yes, I'm sure you know the Headmaster's mind on what sexual activities are appropriate in Hogwarts' classrooms," Snape replied sarcastically.

"Come on, Severus. He's completely cool with us. He set up the whole hospital wing thing so I can stay here during the week. Hell, he basically got us back together. You don't think he knows what we're up to? I mean—"

"Harry, please stop discussing Albus and sex in the same sentence!"

"You're the one who brought him up!"

"Harry—" Snape warned.

"Okay, fine…not in the classroom," Harry brooded. "But we can still do the role-playing here, right?"

The tension immediately flooded back into Snape's body. "Harry, I already told you that that particular role-playing was a one off thing."

"But why? You were so good. It can't be too hard, can it? I mean, you're just playing yourself."

"Playing myself?" Snape asked in a low, dangerous tone that Harry hadn't heard in quite a while.

"Severus, I didn't mean…"

"I don't rape my students, Harry."

"Severus, my god! I just meant in the beginning part, where you were a total arse and all…"

Snape eyebrows rose up.

_Oh shit_, Harry thought. He was just making this worse.

"Severus, I just meant…I…"

"I've got some work to do, Harry," Snape said sharply. "I'll let you use the time to figure out exactly what you meant. Have a pleasant weekend."

A second later, Severus had left, leaving Harry stunned by his own stupidity.

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Harry dressed hurriedly and flooed to the hospital wing before making his way outside to the Quidditch pitch. The field was still empty. Everyone was still at lunch, and Harry used the opportunity to fly solo and contemplate the mess he'd made.

This morning had been his first argument with Severus since they had officially become a couple just over a month ago. And Harry was well aware that all the blame squarely rested with him.

He had known that Severus had overcome a great deal in order for them to become intimate. First there had been the matter of their age difference and the student-teacher issue. Then the trauma of Severus's rape which, unfortunately, Harry had witnessed through a dream. But ultimately, the major stumbling block had been the fact that Voldemort was convinced (by Severus's own doing, no less) that Snape had had pedophilic fantasies about Harry for years.

Harry had tried to discuss things with Severus – he wanted to make sure that Severus felt comfortable enough to broach these sensitive topics with him if he so desired. But anytime Harry had raised the issue of Voldemort over the past weeks, Severus had told him not to worry, that he was doing much better. And Harry could see it was true. Severus's nightmares had abated, he had stopped spacing out the way he'd done consistently over the Holidays, and he had ceased drinking heavily.

In fact, the older man had already gained several pounds of much needed weight and was sleeping better than he had in years. He looked better for it as well, the sallow hue of his skin now replaced with a healthy pink glow. The truth of the matter was, Snape's remarkable progress had made it easy for both of them to forget that there had ever been any difficulties to begin with. That, of course, and the fact that each was so focused on the other, the newfound love between them, and the fantastic mind-blowing sex. Nothing else seemed to even enter the picture.

And so when Severus had casually offered to do the role-playing, Harry had thought nothing of it. Now, as Harry circled high and wide around the pitch, flying as fast as he could within the limits of safety, he couldn't understand what he'd been thinking of when he'd asked for that scenario in the first place.

And then, to make matters worse, was his behavior this morning. The thought sent a knot of anguish into the pit of his stomach. He had acted incredibly obtusely and selfishly.

He hadn't thought it at the time, of course. When he'd woken that morning, he'd been so caught up in his own exhilarated feelings about the previous night's activities, he'd completely forgotten about Severus's. Honestly, the problem may very well have been how well Severus had acted the part – too well, perhaps. So well, in fact, that it hadn't even occurred to Harry that Severus might not be enjoying it, that he might have actually been feeling quite the opposite.

Harry took in the perfect cloudless sky above him, almost mocking the dark turmoil that was his mind, and wondered how on earth the bliss he'd felt just an hour ago had been reduced to this.

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_**Author's Note:**_ I want to thank everyone who's joined/joining me for this sequel. The response has been incredible. I'm very glad to see that people are eager for more from my Severus and Harry – their journey is far from complete!

Thank you to Ketsurui and Molvanian Queen-In-Exile for the beta of this chapter.

Feedback is always appreciated.


	3. Fair recompense

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake **by **CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 3: Fair recompense**

Severus Snape looked dreadful and he knew it. He'd only managed an hour or two of sleep this morning and his entire evening had been spent at the Dark Lord's side. The summons had been largely uneventful, but, as was his custom, he would take breakfast with the Headmaster and debrief the elder wizard nonetheless.

Snape made his way through the students on their way to the Great Hall for Sunday breakfast. To this day, it still amused him the way they parted for him like terrified minnows. He spotted Harry milling about the corridor, attempting to be inconspicuous, when he was anything but. _Damn_.

Harry's eyes widened when he caught his first glimpse of Severus. He looked tired, haggard. Had yesterday's argument affected his sleep? Harry waited casually by the entrance to the hall and, as Severus passed, he interrupted the stoic man who pretended not to notice.

"Professor, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Snape turned and gave Harry a very dirty look. "If this is another attempt to wheedle your way out of your detention, Mr. Potter," Snape responded in his trademark drawl, "then no."

Harry gaped at him. He had no detention.

"I thought as much," Snape continued without missing a beat. "Be very clear, Potter; the next time you accost me in the corridor, I will make your life decidedly unpleasant. Now divest yourself from my sight." And with that, he stalked off.

Harry's stomach gave a little twist. He knew it was inappropriate to approach Severus in this way. The man had made it explicitly clear that their public contact should remain as limited and as vitriolic as ever. But given the relative emptiness of the corridor and his burning need to make a quick apology, Harry had decided to chance it anyway.

Obviously, Severus's brush off indicated that had been a mistake. The encounter had left Harry cold and wondering if he'd bungled up this situation much worse than he'd originally thought. Even while in public, Harry had always been able to feel the undercurrent of affection from those dark eyes with scantest of glances.

Defeated, Harry trudged into the hall, contemplating that he would have to wait another two days before being able to deliver his apology to Severus.

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Harry found Ron and Hermione sitting in the usual corner of the Gryffindor table. He hoped that the pair would be able to get his mind off of his lover for at least the duration of breakfast. Sadly, it was not to be. The Great Hall was fairly deserted this morning and Hermione, who had spotted Harry trying to speak with Snape outside, latched onto the topic at once.

"So how are things going, Harry?" she asked with a playful gleam in her eye. Harry still couldn't quite get over Hermione's attitude regarding his relationship with Severus. She seemed absurdly happy for him. He had been surprised at first, but immensely grateful he had her support.

"Fine," Harry replied simply. He instinctively placed his hand against his chest, feeling the amulet Severus had given him a month before, hidden underneath his shirt. It had fast become a habit of Harry's to feel for it – particularly when he and Severus were apart. Knowing it was there gave him comfort.

"Did something happen, Harry?" Hermione asked perceptively, eyeing Harry's hand clutching the platinum chain possessively.

"No…just…"

His mouth full of food, Ron interrupted, "Things can't be too good. That git gave you a detention and made you miss the Quidditch match. And I thought you said he was being nice? Malfoy was the one who hexed your cauldron."

Harry was ready to respond, but Hermione beat him to it. "Ron, you can't seriously be that dense!?" She dropped her voice to a whisper out of habit, although they had already cast a discreet muffling charm around themselves to prevent being overheard. "Harry probably goaded Malfoy to do that so he could get a detention."

"But…" Ron began in confusion before realization dawned. "Harry! Ugh! Instead of Quidditch?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and addressed Harry. "So are we still on for this coming weekend then?"

Harry had told Ron and Hermione that they were invited to dinner with him and Severus in the dungeons. He had intended to double-check with Severus that this coming weekend was still all right, but their argument had derailed that conversation.

"Well, I haven't had a chance to confirm the date yet."

"But you'll ask him tomorrow and let us know?"

"Uhmm," Harry hesitated. Aware of Hermione's questioning stare, he blurted out in a sudden need to tell someone, "The thing is, he's not really speaking to me at the moment."

"Oh," Hermione said simply.

But Ron fumed, "What did that arsehole do now?"

Harry immediately came to Severus's defense, "He didn't do anything. I'm the one that did something. I said something really stupid."

"Are you two breaking up?" Ron asked hopefully.

"No, we are not," Harry replied calmly.

"Ron," Hermione fumed, "you really need to stop being so hurtful."

Ron huffed his reply, "I've agreed to go to dinner with Snape…on a weekend…and in his quarters. Exactly how much more supportive can I really be?"

Hermione ignored Ron and asked with concern evident on her face, "Is everything okay, Harry?"

"Yeah. It's nothing. I just was insensitive about something."

"What, did you tell him he needed to wash his hair?" Ron jibed.

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shrieked angrily.

While Hermione launched into another assault against Ron's tact and berated him for his heartlessness, Harry decided it was best to simply ignore Ron's comment. In the past few weeks, he had grown accustomed to Ron's digs about Severus and had learned to stop responding to them. He knew the fact that Ron wasn't actively trying to talk him out of the relationship was, in and of itself, extraordinary progress. Ron may still have been Harry's best friend, but for him to actually approve of his seeing Severus would have been nothing short of a miracle.

Hermione, on the other hand, had made a show of overwhelming support and it was more than Harry could have ever hoped for. She'd become a godsend to him, the only other person he was able to share his excitement over this now major part of his life. It was a relief that he no longer needed to be secretive about his relationship with Severus, as he had been months before. And Harry had become infinitely closer to Hermione because of it. He only hoped that Ron's attitude would improve over time, perhaps after he had a chance to actually meet Severus outside the classroom setting.

Ron was still arguing with Hermione. "Come on, 'Mione. Snape's a git. What the hell could _Harry_ have said that would be so bad?" Turning his attention to Harry, Ron added, "And another thing, mate, you're talking like Hermione with all this stuff about being _'insensitive.'_"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but once again Hermione was ahead of him. "Ron, accepting blame for one's mistakes and being sensitive about your partner's feelings are the things that make relationships work," she lectured sternly. "Clearly you don't have enough emotional sophistication to understand what Harry is going through." She didn't let Ron interrupt, adding, "_Which_, by the way, sounds very much like growing up to me. You should try it sometime."

Ron mumbled something under his breath about girls and Harry barely held in his smile. The crazy thing was, a few months ago, he'd have been thinking just like Ron, that all this 'emotional growth' business Hermione was talking about was girly nonsense. But no longer. He loved Severus and Harry was prepared to do everything to ensure that this relationship – the most important in his life – worked.

And if yesterday's argument with Severus had taught him anything, it was that it wasn't always going to be easy. Harry may have been very mature for his age, but he was still a teenager. His relationship with Severus was not typical by any means, and Harry had come to realize that their age difference alone mandated a level of maturity from him that was not usually required of his seventeen-year-old peers.

"Do you want to go somewhere and talk about this alone, Harry?" Hermione asked, eying Ron with disdain.

"Nah, it's fine. I'm sure it'll blow over in a couple of days," Harry replied, thinking, _At least_ _I certainly hope so_. Turning to Ron, he added lightly, "Which means you're not getting out of that dinner so easily."

"Great!" Hermione replied with genuine eagerness. "I'm really looking forward to it."

"Are you insane?" Ron asked in disbelief. "I mean, I said I'd go, mate, but looking forward to it, Hermione? This is dinner with Snape!"

"Shh!" Hermione admonished. "Keep your voice down!"

"We have a bloody muffling charm up."

"Charms can be broken. Have you forgotten what would happen if someone were to overhear?"

"I know, I know. The Order would be compromised, blah blah blah," Ron said, quoting Hermione roughly.

Hermione gave him a smack on the arm. "And for your information, Ron, I am looking forward to the dinner. I can't wait to meet him."

"What the devil do you mean? You know him!"

"I know Professor Snape, the git who teaches Potions and takes too many points from Gryffindor. I don't know the man Harry is seeing."

Harry couldn't help smiling at Hermione's astute remarks.

Ron, on the other hand, looked positively baffled. "You are off your rocker if you think those are two different people."

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Snape took the steps on the ascending staircase to Dumbledore's quarters with nervous tension. Although this breakfast debriefing had become something of a ritual between the men, Snape found it not a little bit uncomfortable of late. Given the aftermath of his previous meetings with the Dark Lord at the end of the fall term, Dumbledore was keeping such a careful eye on his mental state that it felt at times he might be under a microscope. But Snape could hardly blame the Headmaster. Not after his actions.

In his rage at Harry for pursuing the relationship, despite his demands that he desist, Snape had shown Harry the reason for his refusal. But, far more than that, he had _forced_ the memories into Harry's mind. The overwhelming pressure of compartmentalizing his role as a Death Eater spy with the rest of his life, particularly Harry's entrance into it, had left him unable to cope. In his mental instability, he had tried (consciously or unconsciously he still did not know) to convince Harry that he was the same monster that had harbored pedophilic fantasies for Harry for years, the Death Eater he had so convincingly made the Dark Lord believe he was. Had it not been for Dumbledore, he most certainly would have succeeded.

Snape opened the large oak door and made his way into the Headmaster's quarters, ready to discuss the events of last night. This had been his second summons from the Dark Lord since the one that had triggered his violent unstable reaction. The first had been over three weeks ago, just barely after he and Harry had gotten together. Snape couldn't ever remember feeling such dread as the Mark burned on his arm that day. He felt sure that the meeting would snap in two whatever short-lived relationship he and Harry had forged. He had prepared himself for the worst.

That was the first time Dumbledore had broached the topic of his discontinuing his spying for the Order, but Snape had instantly dismissed that possibility. His purpose in life was see the Dark Lord defeated, and now along with that, to leave Harry free of that burden as well.

But as it turned out, that first meeting in early January had been highly uneventful. Much like last night's meeting, in fact. Fortunately, the Dark Lord had greater things on his mind than dwelling on his favorite spy's supposed infatuation with Harry Potter. Several key tips from Snape had caused many high profile Death Eater raids to fail, leaving the Dark Lord in no mood to play sexual games. The Order was doing very well at keeping the Death Eater's actions under control. Snape wondered for how much longer.

A gentle voice snapped Snape out of his musings. "You look dreadful, Severus." Leave it to Dumbledore not to mince words. "Did you not manage any sleep?"

Snape shrugged noncommittally. "I'm fine, Albus."

"Are you up for breakfast, or should we do this another time?"

"Not at all. Let's eat."

As they made their way into the sitting room to the small table already set for the meal, Snape was keenly aware of Dumbledore's appraising gaze. He might have been tempted to say something scathing had he not known that Dumbledore's scrutiny of his mental health was motivated entirely out of concern.

Over the years, Dumbledore had become far more to him than his boss as Headmaster and leader of the Order of the Phoenix. Albus was his mentor, his trusted friend, and Snape had come to regard the elder wizard as something like the father he never had. He owed the man a great deal, already more than he could ever repay.

Nevertheless, Severus was a private man, always had been, and discussing personal matters was not something he ever found easy, even with Albus, who had already seen him in perhaps the two most fragile moments in his life. And Snape knew all too well that Albus's delicate handling of his most recent trauma had saved him from making the terrible mistake of letting go of the one thing in his life that promised sanity: Harry.

His unstable attitude before the Christmas Holiday had resulted in Albus making himself somewhat of a frequent fixture in his quarters, urging Severus to share whatever may have been on his mind. In the end, however, there hadn't been very much to discuss. Harry's presence had enabled him to put those events behind him. Sure there was still the occasional nightmare, but they were now few and far between.

And although Albus was still not so subtly inquiring about his well-being, it was no longer with the same sense of urgency, having apparently realized that he had indeed recovered. This was in no small part due to Harry. Snape hadn't spoken of those traumatic events with Harry except for the once – one night under the influence of alcohol and stress and imminent insanity. But the fact that Harry knew about this horrible aspect of his life and accepted that it was just part of his role as a spy, however sick and twisted, but not part of him, made all the difference in the world.

He still had reservations, of course, about allowing Harry to be mixed up in his life, a life he knew was far from easy. But Snape knew that Harry loved him no matter what, even though it was still hard to accept at times that this young man had chosen him. And after the past four weeks spent in a whirlwind of emotion he never thought he'd ever feel for anyone, he wasn't about to argue with the grace of this relationship.

Snape realized that for his own sanity, he had to keep the two worlds separate – no easy feat to be sure, but necessary. The less Harry knew about his spying with the Dark Lord, the better. Besides, that was Dumbledore's job.

Snape wasted no time in bringing up the meeting. He covered the details over breakfast, explaining that the Dark Lord was beginning to grow suspicious of the number of failed raids.

"Does he suspect a spy?"

"I don't think so. More likely a leak from sloppiness."

"Nevertheless, we should think about formulating a contingency plan."

"Agreed."

"So," Dumbledore began amiably, "how have you been, Severus?"

"Well, thank you."

"I'm glad to hear it." A tentative pause. "And Harry?"

"He's alright," Snape replied with a hint of guilt, thinking of his cold attitude towards the young man in the hall not long ago.

"Does he know you were called last night?"

"No. That is none of his concern."

"Don't you think you should tell him?" Dumbledore suggested mildly.

Snape sighed. He knew where this conversation was going. "I'll think about it."

Dumbledore let the topic drop. "I see that Harry's grade in Potions has improved significantly."

Snape nearly dropped his fork. "I assure you, Headmaster, that my standards are no different―"

Dumbledore put his hand up. "Severus, my dear boy, you must stop this annoying habit of taking everything I say and construing it as accusation. I simply meant that I am pleased to see that Harry's work has improved in all of his classes. Other professors have commented to me about it, in fact."

Snape filed away this information for future reference. He then helped himself to another piece of toast and some more eggs before replying, "Harry knows how seriously I take his education." He could tell Dumbledore was watching him with a delighted smile. "What is it, Albus?"

"Nothing at all," the older wizard lied. The truth was he had never seen Severus eat so well. "Have some more fruit," he insisted before continuing, "And what about Harry's private lessons?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose at the question.

"Ah, that well, I see."

"No; his defense skills are adequate, in some cases quite good." Dumbledore knew that this was high praise coming from Severus. "But his Occlumency is not going any better than before. He can block an invasion and attempt to misdirect his thoughts, but under the Dark Lord's scrutiny, I don't believe he would withstand more than a few seconds."

"Well, we both always knew that Harry wasn't much of an Occlumens. I will leave the decision of whether he should continue up to you."

It was what Snape wanted to hear. He'd been wishing for some time now that they could stop the Occlumency lessons, or at least limit their frequency. The sessions always left him irritated and Harry angry with him. Some things never changed Snape supposed.

The two men discussed the latest school gossip over the remainder of their breakfast before moving to the couch for some more tea.

"Severus, is there anything else you wish to discuss?" Dumbledore asked gently.

_Ah, here it is_, Snape thought. "No, Albus. I've already told you, nothing happened."

"Be that as it may, I am still entitled to be worried about you. You did, after all, agree to speak with me after the Holidays," Dumbledore reminded him.

"That turned out not to be necessary. I've been well."

Dumbledore studied Severus for a long moment. "You seem it, Severus. But it's important to remember that these sorts of issues don't simply disappear overnight."

"I have not forgotten. But I assure you, Albus, that your concerns are misplaced. The Dark Lord is otherwise too occupied to play games."

"Nonetheless," Dumbledore said kindly, "you know that my door is always open to you, Severus."

Snape nodded dutifully. He really hated these conversations.

"I admit, my boy, I don't think I've seen you this well-adjusted, this…_happy_, in a very long time."

Snape's mind floated around the words that Albus did not say. He had _never _been this happy, and both men knew it. "I am…content, Albus."

Dumbledore placed his hand on Severus's shoulder and said affectionately, "I am so very glad, my boy. You don't know how glad."

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Dinner that evening was a torturous affair for Harry. He kept glancing over at the Head Table, trying to covertly signal Severus. But the man did not meet his eye once. When his glances became a bit more obvious, Hermione had the good sense to elbow him to stop.

As they dug into dessert, Harry reconciled himself to the fact that his apologies would have to wait until the next evening – that is, if Severus consented to seeing him. Harry chewed anxiously on his lower lip as he contemplated the prospect. What if Severus wasn't ready to forgive him for his comments?

Harry took a long swallow of pumpkin juice and glanced back at the Head Table once more.

'_Perhaps, Harry, my boy_,' came the deep voice of Albus Dumbledore inside his head, '_instead of staring at Severus, you might just consider speaking with him about your argument.'_

Harry nearly gagged on his juice.

After calming himself, he met Dumbledore's eyes and the words easily tumbled across the connection the Headmaster had so skillfully forged. _'He told you?'_ Harry asked in shock.

'_Not a word. But, I am blessed with keen powers of perception and, between your fretful expression and Severus's rather violent treatment of his steak earlier, I can tell that something is wrong.'_

'_I doubt he wants to speak with me, Professor. He's angry at me.' _

'_Let me see about that.'_ Without missing a beat, Dumbledore redirected his thoughts to the dark-haired man to his right. _'Severus, perhaps you should speak with Harry. He's rather worried you're angry with him.'_

Snape spluttered the tea he was drinking.

'_What has he told you?'_ Snape asked in horror.

'_Oh, nothing at all. I took the liberty of asking Harry what was going on between the two of you.' _

'_Meddler!'_ Snape replied not unkindly.

'_Come now, Severus, surely he's tortured that bottom lip of his enough. What harm would a bit of conversation do?'_

Snape turned his gaze to meet the Headmaster's. He did not like being told what to do, but Albus had given him an idea. _'Alright. Tell him…tell him if he can initiate the conversation, then I will have it…right now.'_

_'Excellent!'_ Dumbledore replied happily. Turning his attention back to Harry, Dumbledore said, _'The plot thickens, my boy. Severus will consent to speaking with you right now, but unfortunately, you will have to initiate the conversation.'_

"Shit."

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked at Harry's sudden outburst.

'_But, sir, I can't do that without staring at him. And that'll be too obvious.'_

_'Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag,'_ Dumbledore said lightly. _'Let me see if I can lend you a hand.'_

While Harry quickly whispered the situation to Hermione, wondering what Dumbledore could possibly do to help him, he heard giggles erupting from around him. The students were all staring at the Head Table, and Harry's gaze followed theirs to find Dumbledore, who had somehow managed to immerse the length of his beard in a chocolate cream pie that he'd been reaching for. He was clumsily attempting to wipe himself with a napkin, but that only seemed to be spreading the chocolate sauce and whipped cream over more of his beard. Harry stared transfixed at the scene.

Hermione's giggle snapped Harry out of his reverie. With sudden awareness, he averted his eyes three feet to the left and found Severus's. Using the cover of the hall staring and chuckling at the Head Table and the scene Dumbledore was perpetrating, Harry managed to finally establish a connection with Severus.

'_I'm so sorry, Severus,'_ Harry began. _'Can you forgive me for being a total prat?'_

'_This is blatant cheating!'_ Snape complained.

'_I know, but I couldn't wait to tell you how horrible I feel for acting like such a complete moron. I wasn't thinking, Severus. I love you so damn much…you know I didn't mean those things.'_

Snape sighed. _'Merlin, help me if I can stay angry at you.'_

'_So then you forgive me?'_

'_Yes, Harry, I forgive you.'_

Harry's whole body sagged with relief. _'Thank god. I miss you so much. I don't know how I'm going to make it till tomorrow night without you._'

'_I've missed you as well. I also can never remember so looking forward to a Monday.'_

'_Ah, isn't this sweet?'_ Dumbledore interrupted into both men's thoughts. _'All is well in the world when love prevails.'_

'_For Merlin's sake, Albus, you've been listening in?'_ Snape said, emitting a bemused groan of mock admonishment.

'_Come now, Severus…__I __**am**__ your accomplice, after all,'_ Dumbledore said, twinkling in Severus's direction. _'Besides,'_ the older wizard concluded matter-of-factly as he continued to wipe his beard, _'I think it's only fair recompense for covering oneself in whipped topping and chocolate.'_

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_**Author's Note:**_ Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review. Your comments mean a lot. It's gratifying to see that people are interested in seeing this sequel…

Thanks again to my two incredible betas: Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui.

Feedback is always appreciated.


	4. Upside down

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake **by **CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 4: Upside down**

The Potions class watched with bated breath as Snape eyed Harry Potter malevolently – the Gryffindors in trepidation, the Slytherins in anticipation. While turning in their completed potions at the end of class, Harry had knocked Malfoy's over, and it seemed quite deliberately at that.

To make matters worse, Harry was glaring at Snape with an air of flippant disrespect.

"That's it, Potter," Snape snapped. "Detention! Right now! Class dismissed."

The Gryffindors winced at Harry's predicament even as the Slytherins jeered at him. Harry muttered a few choice curse words as his classmates filed out of the room.

It took less than five seconds for Snape to lock and ward the door, and for the two men to practically fly into each other's arms.

"I'm sorry," Harry panted as he devoured Severus's neck. "I was dying."

"Me too," Snape whispered as his pressed his lips roughly to Harry's. His heart was racing, and when he pulled away just enough to take in that flushed face and those brilliant green eyes lost in arousal, Snape breathed, "Dear, Merlin, what have you done to me?"

The pair had already stumbled backwards through the office, towards the entrance to Severus's quarters.

"How long do you have?"

"An hour before Transfiguration."

"It'll have to be enough."

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Harry breathed in the scent of his sleeping lover. He'd had to wait another six hours after Transfiguration before he'd finally been able to floo down to Severus's quarters. Typically, Monday nights were more an exercise of who could get their clothes off the fastest. But their mid-day encounter had reduced their frenzied arousal just enough so that they'd been able to enjoy a leisurely dinner and an evening of unhurried lovemaking. Harry knew Severus had particularly enjoyed that, a reminder of their first time together. It'd been a while since they'd taken their time with each other that way – Harry especially was far too exuberant of late. But then, weren't the first few weeks of a relationship supposed to be so passionate they verged on frenetic? These had been that and more.

Harry snuggled closer to Severus. Suddenly the memory of the time, not five weeks ago, when they had slept together in this very bed under the influence of an anti-aphrodisiac came to him. Of course, that had been before they'd officially gotten together. The goal had been to calm Severus's maniacal nightmares. Harry was grateful beyond measure that those had subsided and that Severus was doing so incredibly well.

Harry felt Severus stir and then roll over to face him. The older man reached his hand up and gently stroked the side of Harry's face. Pressing a soft kiss to Harry's cheek, he murmured against it, "What's keeping you awake, hmm?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the tenderness behind Severus's words. "Just thinking about lucky I am," he whispered.

"Well, why don't you dream about it instead," Severus suggested, squeezing Harry's hand. "Come here," he said affectionately, as he pulled the young man close to him and wrapped his arms around his lover.

Harry sighed in contentment and fell fast into sleep.

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Harry glanced around the dungeon classroom, double-checking that everyone was focusing on their steaming cauldrons. He eyed his professor's movements for a long moment as well before removing a small scroll from his pocket. Harry's movements were quick and deliberate as he passed it to Hermione.

The young witch unrolled the scroll under her desk and began to read it at once. She immediately blushed at the contents. Glancing back down at the note in question, she winced as the parchment was abruptly snatched out of her hands.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for passing notes in class," Snape said smugly as he pocketed the missive.

"Does he have to take so many points?" Ron grumbled after Snape was out of earshot.

At his desk, Snape silently perused the note. _'I want to wrap my arms around you.'_ His eyes widened, and only a moment later, he struggled to suppress a smile. Harry had meant for him to intercept the note. After all, the very idea that the note had been meant for Granger was laughable and just the slightest bit nauseating. _'I miss you so much. I'm dying here – I'm hard as a rock just from the smell of you. Let's skip dinner…I need to touch you all over.'_

Snape missed Harry too, and this note was doing nothing to help quell his desire. And he couldn't help but be impressed by this rather clever method of communication; if the note had been intercepted, everyone would assume a tryst between Harry and Hermione. As it was, half the school believed it anyhow, given all the time they spent together.

Snape looked up. Harry was covertly eyeing him with a self-assured expression, trying to get a hint of his answer. Hermione still looked slightly pink from having read a portion of the note.

In his most severe voice, Snape said, "Miss Granger, you will see me after class."

Hermione's eyes went wide. She struggled to formulate a response, but in the absence of coherent words, she remained silent.

When class was dismissed and the students began exiting the classroom, Hermione remained, as did Harry by her side, determined to explain the situation. Surely Severus didn't really believe that note was meant for Hermione?

"Potter, did I ask you to stay?"

Harry glanced back and saw a few students still at the back of the classroom. "No, sir, but―"

"Then get lost, Potter."

Reluctantly, Harry shuffled out, glancing at Hermione sympathetically.

Snape closed, locked and silenced the room. By now, Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest. In a panic, she blurted out, "Professor, there's nothing going on between me and Harry. I swear it!"

Snape looked legitimately confused for a moment, before realization dawned. "Do give me some credit, Miss Granger. I called you here to ask you a favour."

"A favour?" Hermione repeated in shock, wondering if she'd misheard.

"Yes, a favour. There's no need to act so shocked. Surely Harry's informed you that I can be civil."

Hermione stared. That was the first time she'd ever heard Professor Snape refer to Harry by his first name. It sounded incredibly strange. It took her a long moment to find her voice. "What sort of favour, sir?"

"I need you to tutor Harry in Potions."

"Tutor him, sir? But he's doing so well."

"Yes, but Harry's sudden motivation needs to be explained. And not only in Potions, but the rest of his classes as well. If you could make a show of studying with him in the common room, perhaps 'tutoring' him, I would appreciate it."

"And people will think he's studying because I'm making him?"

"Yes."

"May I ask, sir, why are you telling me this and not Harry?"

"I fully intend to speak with him about it, but it's not wise for us to be seen alone together more than necessary. And as you are part of this plan, so to speak, I wanted to ask you personally. I trust I have your cooperation then, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Very good. Also, please do me the courtesy of giving this to Harry," Snape said, pulling a small scroll from his pocket.

Despite herself, Hermione blushed as her imagination ran wild with what Snape's reply might be. As she placed it in her pocket, she realized that Professor Snape hadn't even told her not to open it.

"I'll give it to him straight away, sir," Hermione said fervently, feeling strangely warmed by the fact that he trusted her. She made to leave, but then turned and added, "And, sir, I am really looking forward to dinner this weekend."

Snape froze for a moment, and then nodded. He watched the brown-haired witch leave the room and then muttered, "Bloody hell." He'd forgotten all about that.

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Snape took a long sip of his tea, conscious of the pair of brilliant blue eyes watching him keenly from across the coffee table.

He and the Headmaster had been discussing the latest Hogwarts' gossip, little that it was, before Dumbledore finally leaned over and asked shrewdly, "So tell me, Severus, why are you really here?"

Snape managed to sport a confused expression. "Whatever do you mean, Albus? You invited me for tea."

"I always invite you to tea after dinner."

"Oh, so you were just being polite?"

"Not at all. But you've been too, shall we say, _preoccupied_ with other things the last few weeks to accept."

"Yes well," Snape began grudgingly and then muttered very quietly, "I need some advice."

"On?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"Never mind," Snape insisted suddenly. What had he been thinking coming here?

"Severus, please, I would hope by now that you'd be comfortable enough to discuss anything with me."

A long pause. "It's mortifying," Snape admitted.

"Just have out with it, my boy," Dumbledore prodded gently.

Snape emitted a long deep sigh and decided that however difficult it might be, perhaps the best thing to do was to just say it. "Harry's invited Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to dinner, and…" Snape paused, unsure of how to continue.

"And you want to know what to do?" Dumbledore finished kindly.

"Yes."

Dumbledore began to chuckle.

"I'm glad to see you find this amusing, Albus," Snape replied irritably.

"I'm sorry, Severus, you're right," Dumbledore said, instantly wiping the smile off his face. "This is a very serious matter. Go on…"

"This dinner means so much to him."

"Then why don't you ask Harry for advice? They are his friends, after all."

"I don't want him to know I care."

"Ah."

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" Snape asked throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "Miss Granger had the nerve to tell me she was looking forward to it. I don't know how to entertain adolescents!"

"Just be yourself, Severus," Dumbledore replied.

"Now, _THAT_…is the worst advice I've ever heard," Snape all but shouted. "They'll run screaming."

Dumbledore couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. "Oh, Severus, I never thought I'd see this day. You're having guests down to the dungeons, Gryffindors no less, and you've come to ask me for advice on how best to entertain them. It's so incredibly…"

"Don't you _dare _say it…" Snape warned.

"…sweet," Dumbledore finished with a twinkle.

"That's got to be the nastiest thing you've ever said to me, Albus."

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As the trio of Gryffindors made their way down the dungeon corridor, Ron looked like Harry was marching him to his death. Hermione, on the other hand, was in great spirits, and was clutching a package wrapped with a bow.

"I still can't believe you're bringing him a gift," Ron said reproachfully.

"It's common courtesy to bring something when invited to someone's home, Ronald."

Ron's retort was lost as they stepped into Professor Snape's office.

"This place gives me the creeps," Ron said, remembering the only other time he'd been down here. It had not been a pleasant memory, being berated under the threat of expulsion at the start of their second year. "The man lives like a vampire."

"Severus doesn't live here, Ron," Harry said in exasperation. "This is just his office."

"Yeah, but still," Ron insisted as he followed Harry and Hermione through a hidden door in the back, down a long corridor and toward the entrance to Snape's quarters.

Harry gave the password and the wards immediately granted them entrance. Both Ron and Hermione gaped at the sight of their dreaded professor's sitting room. Harry remembered having a similar reaction the first time he'd seen it some months before. It was not at all what one would have expected to see from Severus Snape. Light shades of brown dominated the expanse of the austere but comfortable room. A cozy dark leather brown chair and sofa were arranged around a coffee table in front of the large roaring hearth. And in the far corner, a table had already been elegantly set for dinner.

"Oh, this is very nice," Hermione said, stepping inside.

Ron continued to hesitate at the door.

A familiar drawl snapped him to attention, "Mr. Weasley, you may come in. I promise not to bite…" A moment's pause before Snape added with a smirk, "…at least not before dinner."

Hermione laughed. "That's very funny, Professor."

Ron muttered under his breath, "More like creepy."

"Thank you for inviting us, sir," Hermione said.

"It is my pleasure," Snape replied politely and not a little bit stiffly. "You are Harry's friends, after all."

Ron gave Hermione a nudge.

"What?" she whispered.

"He called Harry…Harry."

"What did you think? That he calls me Potter?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well, honestly? Yeah!"

Hermione elbowed Ron roughly and snapped angrily in his ear, "You're being exceptionally rude, Ron. Stop it."

Snape couldn't help but be amused by the proceedings, but catching a glimpse of the growing look of distress on Harry's face, he did his best to diffuse the tension. "Perhaps we should begin dinner. Is everyone hungry?"

"That sounds great, Severus," Harry said gratefully.

Dinner had seemed like a good idea at the time, Snape thought. But the first several minutes passed with infinite slowness. Harry made a few valiant attempts to start up a conversation, but since they mostly revolved around Quidditch, those efforts fell rather flat. The silence in the room had fast become an uneasy one.

Ron had come prepared with a strategy for just a circumstance and he was fully employing it at the moment. He kept his mouth full of food at all times, not a stretch for him anyhow, so that he could avoid the pressure of being forced to speak.

Snape opened the wine Hermione had brought and served it with the main course. Unfamiliar with the label, he eyed the Muggle American bottle somewhat speculatively before giving the wine a somewhat hesitant taste. He was pleasantly surprised.

"This is delightful, Miss Granger. You have good taste in wine."

"Not really," Hermione confessed. "My parents went on a vineyard tour last year and bought three cases of it. I asked my mum to send me a bottle."

"Be that as it may, it was very thoughtful," Snape replied.

With the stalemate of silence finally broken, Hermione braved an attempt at conversation by expressing her opinion on an article she had read in the Prophet that very morning. And before long, Harry was watching in stunned relief as Hermione and Severus engaged in a rather animated discussion of politics in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. He didn't know if it was the wine or the subject that had broken the ice, but he really didn't care. Ron may still have been stuffing his mouth full of food, but at least Hermione seemed perfectly at ease. And so too did Severus.

As they were finishing dessert, Ron stared at his empty plate and had the uncomfortable feeling that it was his turn to speak. He'd barely said a word since he'd entered the room over an hour ago. Desperate for something to say, he addressed his least favorite professor, "So, then…I guess you and Harry aren't fighting anymore."

Snape'e eyebrows flew up.

"Ouch!" Ron exclaimed as Hermione kicked his shin under the table.

"I never said we were fighting, Ron," Harry corrected in almost a panic. Turning his gaze at Severus, he communicated quickly, _'I swear I didn't tell them anything. I just mentioned that we had an argument…and I told them it was all my fault. I swear!' _The last thing Harry wanted was for Severus to think he was blabbing about their personal matters to Ron and Hermione.

"It's all right, Harry," Snape said reassuringly. "And no, Mr. Weasley, Harry and I are not _fighting_, as you put it."

Somewhat timidly, Hermione inquired, "May I ask, sir, were you two just communicating through Legilimency?"

"Very perceptive, Miss Granger. I'd give five points to Gryffindor," Snape said, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement, "…but it is the weekend after all."

"Never had any trouble taking points on the weekend," Ron mumbled.

"Ron, he's making a joke," Hermione admonished.

Ron looked bewildered at this information, as if the idea of Professor Snape making a joke was not possible.

Harry shot Ron a dirty look and invited everyone to the sitting area. He gave Severus's arm a light squeeze as he brushed past him, his tacit thanks to his lover for being so gracious despite Ron's behaviour.

As they took their seats, Harry could sense Hermione's sudden anxiety, and he thought this was rather strange given how relaxed she'd been at dinner. Ron's expression, on the other hand, clearly conveyed that he was wondering when this evening would be coming to a close.

"Can I offer either of you some more wine?" Snape asked.

"Do you have any Firewhiskey?" Ron asked brazenly.

Hermione gasped at his presumption, but if Snape found the request an odd one, he didn't let on. "No. But if you prefer something stronger, I have some Cognac."

Ron looked amazed. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"I'm fine with the wine, Professor, thank you," Hermione said.

Harry went to help Severus with the drinks and whispered, "I can't believe you're giving him that."

"Perhaps something to calm the nerves wouldn't be amiss."

"Oh, he'll be fine," Harry insisted.

Snape poured first for Ron, then a healthy amount for himself, and said, "I meant for me."

As Severus handed Ron the glass, Harry took the opportunity to lean over to Hermione and ask if she was okay. She seemed preoccupied with something. She brushed off his concern, took a deep breath and began in a rush, "Professor, Harry mentioned that you had quite a library. Is there…I mean, could I…I mean if it wouldn't be asking too much…"

"Not at all, Miss Granger," Snape said, waving his hands vaguely about the room.

"Sir?"

"If you find it, Miss Granger," Snape replied with a gleam in his eyes, "…it's yours to ransack."

Hermione's face lit up in glee at the challenge. It took her less than 20 seconds to find the magical signature and just about the same amount of time to figure out how to open the door.

She stepped inside and the room lit on its own. "Oh!"

Harry remembered how awestruck he'd been when he'd first seen Severus's library. The room was a small one, only about five feet square, but the books extended upwards as far as the eye could see. It was an awesome thing to behold, and given Hermione's reverence for books, Harry could only imagine what she must have been feeling.

"Oh my!" came the voice from within the library. And then a moment later, "OH!!!" Peeking her head outside, Hermione asked almost breathlessly, "How do you access the upper levels?"

"Simply think about your need for a ladder and the room will make it appear," Snape answered.

Harry interjected, "And don't worry, you won't fall. Severus put a spell to catch you if you slip."

"Yes," Snape added with a smirk, "Otherwise Harry, clumsy as he is, would have had ten broken wrists and ankles to explain to Madam Pomfrey by now."

"Are you ever going to stop making fun of me about that?" Harry asked with a smile.

"I simply find it amusing that you can swirl in fantastic upside down patterns on a broom, but you have trouble holding onto a ladder."

Hermione, for her part, was clearly enraptured in something she'd found in the library. The three men could hear her speaking to herself. "Oh Merlin! Is this a first edition?! Oh good heavens, it is!!"

Ron snapped angrily. "This is just great! She's going to be in there all night."

"Why don't you two play chess?" Harry suggested.

"I don't know, Harry," Ron said hesitantly.

"Perhaps we should give it a try, Mr. Weasley. I'm told you are very good. If that's true, you probably rarely find an adequate opponent."

"I guess. Harry isn't that good and Hermione doesn't care for chess." Ron downed his drink. "Can I have another?"

Snape eyed the glass of Cognac Ron had just gulped like cheap Firewhiskey. Reminding himself that this evening was for Harry, he swallowed his retort and went to refill the redhead's glass.

"I'll go get the chess set then," Harry said, glad he'd found something to occupy the two men. Before he could take a step, however, Ron stood, grabbed his arm and whispered, "Don't leave me, Harry. Who am I going to talk to?"

"Perhaps your best friend's lover," Snape answered suddenly as he returned with Ron's drink.

Snape did his best not to laugh as Ron's eyes bulged at his use of the word _'lover.'_ "Sit, Mr. Weasley," Snape ordered.

Ron sat immediately.

Snape could tell that the boy looked decidedly ill-at-ease, and however amusing that was, it was not what he wanted to achieve from this evening. In what came out too much like an order, he said, "Get comfortable."

Harry left the room with a broad grin on his face. The funny thing was, he'd expected Severus to be the one most out of his element this evening, but he appeared to be handling the situation with ease. Amused by Ron's panic, Harry wondered what sort of conversation his best friend and lover would occupy themselves with when Harry was out of the room.

As it happened, Harry had no idea where Severus kept his chess set. When he finally returned with it, almost ten minutes later, both men bolted up from their seats.

"What the hell took you so long?" they snapped in unison.

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Fortunately the next two hours passed rather easily. Chess had been a brilliant idea. It didn't require either man to speak, and what little conversation there was revolved around chess moves Harry had never heard of.

The most amusing part of the evening, Harry felt, was Hermione, who had planted herself in the library. She could be heard, however, and if Harry didn't know any better, he'd have thought she was having one orgasm after another. Sometimes when she found a specific volume or a new section of the library previously obscured by magic, the sounds of rather heavy breathing could be heard, followed by a muttered, "Oh god!" or a wild, "Dear Merlin!"

On occasion, she would poke her head out and ask for help, and Severus, obliging, stepped inside the library when it was Ron's move.

The end of their second chess game brought a rather finite end to the evening. Snape had won both, but sincerely complimented Ron on two well-played games.

Hermione's distress at being told they had to leave was mitigated only when Snape pulled a tome from a corner bookshelf. "You may borrow this, Miss Granger. I suspect it might interest you."

After all the noises she'd been making throughout the evening, this time Hermione fell abruptly silent. Looking utterly gob smacked, she thanked Snape profusely and bid him goodnight. Ron muttered a polite goodbye as well.

"I'll just walk back with them," Harry said to Severus. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Take your time," Severus said. Harry reached over and squeezed Severus's hand in goodbye. Normally he would have given Severus a kiss, but Harry decided that that might have been too much for Ron to handle for one evening.

Once they were outside of Snape's quarters, Ron spoke at once. "That was horrible."

Harry's heart sank. "What do you mean? I thought you had fun playing chess with him?"

"Well yeah, that was alright, I suppose. But he was scary."

"What are you on about, Ron? He wasn't anything like he is in class. In fact, I thought Severus was very nice to you."

"Exactly!" Ron said, as if Harry's words proved his point. "It was worse…almost like he was plotting. I kept thinking he was going to snap or something."

"Ron, you're being ridiculous," Hermione said. "I thought Professor Snape was wonderful."

"What do you know?" Ron countered. "You were in the library all night."

"If you recall, I had a very pleasant conversation with him over dinner. Besides, he helped me several times in the library. Do you realize that he knows where every book is by memory? It's amazing."

"_That _you think is amazing," Ron huffed, "…but Quidditch is nonsense to you."

Hermione, who now seemed utterly taken with Harry's choice of lover said, "Harry, he really is wonderful. He even said I could borrow more books if I wanted."

Ron rolled his eyes. "And all that makes up for years of torturing us?"

"Ron, Harry's with him now. And Professor Snape was very charming. The fact that he's not the most social person but he still made such an effort makes it very clear to me that he really cares for Harry."

Harry was gratified to hear Hermione reaffirm her approval of his relationship, even if Ron was no more thrilled than before. "Well, I'm glad at least one of you had a good time," Harry said.

"I can't wait to get to the common room and start reading this right away."

"Are you nuts, 'Mione? It's Friday night," Ron said.

"You don't know what this book is, Ron. I couldn't believe it myself at first. It―"

Ron interrupted before Hermione could bore him with a long detailed explanation he really did not want to hear. "Well, here's the common room. You coming in, mate?"

"Uhmm, okay. Just for a bit," Harry said hesitantly. "But then I have to get back."

They found a quiet corner and Hermione cast their usual muffling charms. "Please thank Professor Snape again for me, Harry. I think we should do this again real soon."

"You've got to be kidding!" Ron exclaimed.

"Ron, I don't think it's a bad idea for you to start getting comfortable around Severus," Harry agreed.

"Why?"

"Because I'm planning on spending the rest of my life with him, that's why," Harry answered seriously.

Ron said nothing to that. Harry thought he looked a little ill at the thought. And so, Harry offered to stay for a few more minutes and play Exploding Snap with him. Hermione was already completely enraptured in her book.

As they played, Harry revisited the evening in his mind. It had gone very well all things considered. Ron was apparently not too scarred, and Hermione had actually enjoyed herself. Most importantly, Severus seemed fairly at ease for most of the evening. Harry still couldn't quite believe that Severus had even allowed him to bring his friends to dinner in the first place. When he'd first suggested it, he had expected an argument, but Severus had readily agreed. He'd simply said that Ron and Hermione were an important part of Harry's life, and that what was important to Harry was now important to him.

Of course, Harry knew that Severus didn't relish the idea of socializing with his friends. Far from it. Severus wasn't much for socialization, period. But Harry was incredibly proud of him; he'd been extraordinarily courteous to Ron in several instances where his friend's muttered comments could not have made it easy. And he'd been incredible to Hermione who was now beside herself with joy at the idea of having a new resource for her research.

But what pleased Harry the most was the knowledge that Severus had done all of it for him. It was overwhelming to think that only a couple of months ago they had been at each other's throats and now Severus was willingly sacrificing both his time and his privacy – the two things he valued most – just to make him happy. It left him feeling almost dizzy with joy.

Harry was snapped out of his reverie by Hermione, who was reading aloud a passage from the book Severus had given her.

When neither he nor Ron reacted, "Have either of you been listening to me? Look at what he loaned me!" she said, holding up the book. "_Hogwarts, A History, Unabridged_. All these years I didn't even realize there was an unabridged version!"

"So?" Ron asked.

"You're impossible," Hermione sighed in exasperation. Hoping that Harry would understand, she turned to him, clutched the book to her chest and said, "Professor Snape has turned my entire world upside down."

Harry smiled. "Mine too."

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_**Author's Note:**_ Thank you again for your overwhelming response to the previous chapters and for taking the time to comment/review.

For those asking about Unexpected Grace, I beg for your patience. Life is crazy busy…and I don't have the time/emotional energy to write UG at the moment.

Cheers always to my two betas: Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui.

Feedback is always appreciated.


	5. Convoluted codes

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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Warnings for Slash content

This chapter is mildly censored. Full text available on Skyehawke and my LJ. Enjoy  
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**In Memory's Wake **by **CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 5: Convoluted codes**

After having spent a couple of exhausting hours at Quidditch practice, Harry entered the castle with his two best friends. The big game against Slytherin was only two days away and as Captain of the Gryffindor team, Harry had called for an extra practice session this Friday evening.

"So I guess you'll be heading down to the dungeons now?" Ron asked, not even trying to hide his annoyance at the prospect. Harry had become accustomed to Ron's irritation at him spending his weekday evenings, particularly Fridays, with Severus instead of him.

"Yeah, Ron. But I'm hanging out with you all day tomorrow," Harry replied consolingly. "First practice and then Hogsmeade, right?"

"Yeah, I guess that'll be fun. I just hope we win Sunday."

"Oh, we'll win. Don't you worry. Cruxley has nothing on you," Harry said, referring to the Slytherin seeker.

The trio halted as they came upon the corridor leading toward the hospital wing where Harry was to part ways with them so that he could Floo to Severus's quarters.

Harry opened his mouth to say goodbye, but Hermione spoke first, "I'll come with you, Harry, if that's alright."

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Ron sighed irritably. "You're practically living down there too now!"

"I am not!"

Harry suppressed a smile. Ever since their dinner together where she had discovered the wonders of Severus's library, Hermione had been down in the dungeons with increasing frequency over the past two weeks. She'd fawned over his collection of rare books to no end. But truth be told, Hermione had found something far more precious than a room filled with unread texts. Suddenly she had at her disposal one of the brightest scholars of the day – a resource she could have never tapped with Severus being 'Snape-the-evil-git.' Unsurprisingly, her delight at this was boundless and she certainly was availing herself of the opportunity to ask Severus questions about every topic ranging from Potions to Arithmancy. Nothing odd about that at all. What was odd, Harry reflected, was that Severus didn't seem to mind. That he, in fact, appeared to take silent delight in Hermione's inquisitiveness. And Harry couldn't have been happier to see the growing 'friendship' – dare he call it – between one of his best friends and his lover.

"Ron, stop being ridiculous," Hermione continued calmly. "I just need to return these books and ask Professor Snape if I can borrow a few more."

"What is up with you two?" Ron snapped angrily. Turning to Hermione he said, "You're in love with Snape's big library," and turning to Harry, he finished, "and you're in love with his big…oh effing hell! I did _not _just think that."

Hermione began to giggle. "Well, I can't speak for Harry," she said nudging him playfully, "but it's more than his library. Professor Snape's helped me narrow down my final research project for Arithmancy in just a few days and he's been giving me career advice on―"

"Hold it right there," Ron interrupted. "You were asking Snape for career advice!?"

"Yes, for your information, I was. And he's been very helpful; told me that Stockholm and Brisbane should be at the top of my list for Mastery programs."

"I thought McGonagall already told you that?"

"Yes, but it's nice to have a second opinion. Besides, I need all the help I can get to figure out if I should pursue Arithmancy or Runes."

"He's a Potions Master. What would he know about that?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"A great deal, Ron. Professor Snape is remarkably well read on the current research in both fields. He's quite amazing, really," she added a bit wistfully. "I just read his most recent publication in the Proceedings of the International Academy of Potions…it's revolutionary." Harry stared in fascination as Hermione recited Severus's scholarly achievements, many of which he himself was not aware of.

By the end of her speech, Ron was looking positively livid and Harry couldn't suppress his amusement.

"Geez, Hermione," Harry teased, "if I didn't know any better I'd say you fancied Severus." A quick glance at Ron's expression told Harry that his friend did not share in the hilarity of his joke. Instead, he seemed to be grumbling something unintelligible under his breath.

Sensing Ron was feeling more than a little left out, Harry suggested, "Why don't you come down for a bit and have a drink? I'm sure Severus wouldn't mind." Harry knew that was probably not true, but he'd have to deal with it.

But Ron seemed completely horrified by the idea. "Oh, no way! You must think I'm as barmy as you two. No, you two go off and have your fun." And with that, Ron marched away in a furious huff.

"Ron! Ron!?" Harry shouted, trying to call after his best friend.

Hermione grabbed his arm and directed him down the corridor towards the Hospital Wing. "Don't mind him, Harry. He's being an utter arse."

"What is his problem all of a sudden? I've been spending the past several weeks with Severus and he hasn't been this bad about it."

"He's not angry at you, Harry. I mean, he is, but he's really much more angry with me."

"Because you're spending so much time in Severus's library?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Well, that…and I suppose I have been going on about how wonderful Professor Snape is and…"

"No, _really_?" Harry asked with heavy sarcasm. These days, it seemed Hermione raved more about Severus than he did. Taking a handful of Floo powder, Harry stepped into the fireplace and said, "I'll go first and let you through the wards."

A few moments later they were both in Severus's sitting room and Hermione took the seat Harry offered her. "Looks like Severus isn't back from the faculty meeting yet. You want something to drink?" Harry asked, pouring himself a glass of juice.

"No thanks."

"So you think Ron's annoyed you're not against Severus? One less person to convince me to leave him, is that it?"

"Maybe that's part of it. But I think this has less to do with you and more with me."

"I don't get it."

"I think maybe your comment earlier hit a little too close to home. I think maybe Ron's, well… jealous."

"Jealous? Of Severus?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes."

Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

"I can sort of understand why," Hermione continued. "I've been down here nearly every night or so getting books and I've been on about how helpful and brilliant and wonderful he is…"

"Ron thinks you have the hots for Severus?" Harry asked, his eyes bulging now.

"I don't know if I would go that far, but basically yes."

"Just because you've been down here so much lately?" Harry couldn't quite wrap his brain around this. He knew without question, however, there was no truth in this whatsoever. Ron was just being Ron again, jumping to insane conclusions in order to explain Hermione's behaviour. But only Ron could believe such utter nonsense.

"Well, I suppose it all started when I was defending your choice of him as a partner…and I guess I might have mentioned that he was an attractive man."

"Oh. Ron must have loved that!"

"Right. I suppose that rather pissed him off. And then from nowhere he brought up that comment I made a few months ago about how I could imagine Professor Snape having sex. Do you remember that?"

"Oh yes!" Harry said, now laughing heartily at Hermione's predicament and Ron's ridiculous assumptions. "I remember that very well."

"Do you?" a dark voice drawled.

Hermione blushed the moment she caught sight of Snape standing in the doorway of his quarters. Bolting up from the sofa, she made to leave.

"Don't go on my account, Miss Granger. Please sit."

Snape walked over to the sofa and took a seat next to Harry. To Harry's surprise, Severus leaned over and kissed him on the lips in greeting. It was chaste, but Harry tensed nonetheless - it was the first time he'd ever kissed Severus in front of anyone else, but he found, after a moment, that he was not uncomfortable by the prospect.

Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to find it difficult to know where she should direct her eyes, and her face was now a deep shade of crimson.

Snape broke the kiss and continued speaking as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. "It seems I've interrupted a rather fascinating conversation. Please continue."

Sensing Hermione was still too flummoxed to speak, Harry began, "Well, this was in October, I think. Ron said something nasty about you…"

"How unexpected," Snape interjected dryly.

"And then 'Mione mentioned you having attractive hands and I started to think about them and then…" Harry stopped as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "You know, come to think of it, that's about the time I started obsessing about your body."

"Well then, Miss Granger," Snape said with a spark in his eye, "it seems I owe you a debt of gratitude."

"Oh. Uh, thanks." Unsure of what else to say, Hermione glanced about the room and spotted Severus's Pensieve lying on his desk. With a distinct lack of subtly, she changed the topic, "I've been meaning to ask you about the Runes on your Pensieve, Professor."

"I've just begun the rather tedious process of deciphering them, Miss Granger. Their meaning will likely prove critical in the brewing process for the Pensieve amalgam."

"Really? That sounds fascinating," Hermione replied with sincere reverence.

Snape seemed deep in thought for a long moment before he added, "In fact, I could use some help in the matter. Runes was never my favorite field. And besides, I'm rather curious to know if Minerva and Bathsheba have been exaggerating your aptitude in the subject."

Hermione blushed. "I'm not _that _good at it," she replied modestly. "But I am flattered you'd permit me the opportunity, Professor. I'd love to help in any way I can."

Snape made his way towards his library. "Well then, I can pull some texts for you to begin reading. Perhaps we can meet in a few days to discuss what you've unearthed…"

Harry interrupted, "While you two ransack the library, I'm going to take a shower. I'll see you tomorrow, 'Mione."

"Goodnight, Harry."

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Harry showered quickly. He was looking forward to spending the evening with Severus.

His thoughts centered wholly on the kiss his lover had given him earlier in the sitting room in front of Hermione. It had taken him completely by surprise. An intense thrill rushed through Harry's body as he remembered the details of it, the rich warmth that bloomed in his chest at that simple, yet ultimate sign of Severus's love. It struck Harry at that moment, something he'd known before of course, but suddenly it was very clear to him. He belonged to Severus. And he didn't mind one bit for others to know it. No. He wanted _everyone_ to know it.

What shocked Harry the most about the kiss, however, was that Severus hadn't felt shy about the public display of affection. Harry knew all too well that Severus was a deeply private man who did not like to share or display his emotions. To Harry, the fact that Severus had kissed him in front of another was a definitive statement of his confidence in their relationship and in their future together. Given all that they'd gone through over the past months, little could have given Harry greater joy.

So much so that Harry barely restrained himself from wanking right then and there. But ultimately he decided he'd enjoy himself much more if he saved his growing erection for Severus.

So when Harry entered the sitting room clad only his bathrobe, he was more than a little disappointed to find that Hermione was still there. And still going strong about the Runes on the Pensieve and how they might influence the chemical formula of the potions Severus was to brew. As she disappeared into the library, Harry made his presence known to his lover.

Harry could see Severus's gaze dropped almost immediately between his legs. With that dark tinge to his voice that never failed to drive Harry wild, Severus uttered softly, "Is that for me?"

Hearing Hermione coming out of the library, Harry hurriedly took a seat in an effort to conceal his arousal.

"I know just where to begin, Professor," she said, exiting with an armful of books and beginning to open them. "Oh hi, Harry."

Hermione was a perceptive girl, and the right look from Harry – his eyebrows raised through his forehead and then a slight nod of his head towards the door – told her all she needed to know.

"Oh!" she said in realization and sudden unease. "Oh! You know, Professor, I just realized, I really have to be getting back to Gryffindor Tower ," she said, flustered, looking at Snape, "I'll just…I'll just take these with me. Goodnight, Professor, Harry." With that, Hermione rushed out of the room in a flash.

"Not a very subtle dismissal," Snape observed dryly.

"Are you sorry?" Harry asked with a knowing smile as he made his way over to his lover.

"Not in the least…not with that look in your eye. Have something in mind, do you?"

"You must be a mind reader," Harry said, causing the corners of Severus's mouth to twitch in amusement.

He pulled Harry roughly to him and pressed their lips together. Harry melted into the almost predatory kiss, and his arousal surged as he relived the memory of the kiss they shared earlier that evening.

Severus pulled away for the briefest of moments and whispered against the shell of Harry's ear, "You know, I'd rather hear you ask for it."

"Gods, Severus, please…" Harry panted as the older man assaulted his neck with kisses and skillfully began to stroke his burning erection underneath his robe, "…oh god…please…just…take me."

"Right here?" Severus asked in mock astonishment, as if they'd never had sex in the living room before.

"Yes, damn it! Right here," Harry demanded in frustration, tugging off his robe and sprawling out on the thick wool rug in front of the hearth.

"My, my…we are a bit overenthusiastic, aren't we?" Severus drawled with a leer on his face. The older man took the briefest of moments to admire the picture of Harry lying naked on the rug – for him – and although he'd intended to torture the boy a bit longer, his own aching arousal argued fiercely against it. He found himself undressing at top speed.

"Looks like I'm not the only one," Harry replied smugly.

"Oh, you impertinent little thing. I'll make you pay for that," Severus promised, his eyes fiery with desire.

"Oh please do…please make me pay for it," the younger man all but whined.

Severus's smile made Harry's heart skip a beat. And before he was even aware of what was happening, Severus had leaned down and swallowed him whole. Harry sucked in a deep breath and found himself inexplicably unable to make a single sound as he bucked into the sudden wet heat. Dear Merlin, Severus was a master at this. And then Harry could feel slick fingers moving lower.

He felt that incredible burst of pleasure as Severus hit his prostate, and now those fingers he'd fantasized about for months and months before he'd ever felt them on his skin were working with exquisite precision, inflaming his need to the point of pain. Harry was aware that he was begging, but he couldn't have, for the life of him, told anyone what he was saying.

"Want something, do you?" Severus purred, his expression the epitome of control.

Harry took a moment to breathe and attempt a coherent thought before whispering, "I want you to fuck me until I can't walk tomorrow."

Severus's eyes flickered darkly in reply.

Oh how Harry loved that! How quickly he could make Severus's control melt away by saying the right thing. How it was _his_ words that could crumble Severus's calm demeanor, revealing the unrestrained lust beneath.

Severus did not wait another second. He couldn't. He grabbed both of Harry's wrists, pinned them over his head and entered Harry in one swift stroke.

Harry moaned at the sudden sensation of fullness. So absolute, so perfect – just what he needed. There was nothing better than this, nothing better than Severus inside him – making him his.

Harry knew Severus could make this last an eternity if he wanted – he'd done that their first time making love. It had been exquisite – the slow, drawn out release of their love, a refined gentle dance. But, in this moment, Harry wanted quite the opposite.

He wanted to feel Severus's desperation, to feel his lover's urgent grunts as he got closer, to feel Severus's thrusts become ever more erratic as he lost all control. To see the way Severus's face screwed up in concentration as the pressure became too much to bear, the way his eyes closed just before he climaxed, that incredible look on his face when he finally found his release. And Harry's favorite thing: just after Severus's orgasm, the way Severus would whisper his name in the most reverent of ways (sometimes too quietly to be discernable).

Just the thought of that impending moment brought Harry right to the edge.

"Tell me…" Harry pleaded, groaning loudly as Severus hit his prostate again and again and again. "Oh god…please say it…"

Severus didn't need to ask what it was that Harry wanted to hear, needed to hear as he pounded into his young lover. "You're mine, Harry…all mine," Severus panted as Harry whimpered in pleasure beneath him, "…and I'm never…going…to let you go. Never."

Severus reached between their slick bodies and wrapped his hand firmly around Harry's aching erection. It took only a few firm strokes and the whispered words, "My Harry…" before the dark-haired young man was shuddering his release. Severus was not far behind, his orgasm overtaking him as Harry's muscles clenched around him.

As Severus collapsed on top of him, Harry smiled into Severus's shoulder as he heard his lover whisper his name under his breath.

A minute later, and with a monumental effort, Severus rolled off of Harry, summoned a blanket from the bedroom and covered both of them with it.

Still reveling in their post-coital bliss, Harry turned over onto his side and wrapped his arms around Severus. In response, Severus immediately winced in pain.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked at once.

The briefest glimpse of terror in Severus's eyes said it all. Not a moment later, it was gone again, replaced with the calm façade that Harry was so accustomed to. But Harry knew exactly what it meant; Severus's Dark Mark was burning into his arm. Voldemort was summoning him.

"I'll wait for you," Harry said, concern etched into his face as he tried to quell the dread rising in his gut.

"I may be all night, Harry," Severus replied as he got up and began to dress quickly.

"I don't care."

"I do. It's early yet. You should go back to Gryffindor Tower and socialize with your friends."

It was said mildly, as if it were a suggestion. But as Severus pulled his Death Eater robes out from the trunk where he kept them, Harry knew an order when he heard one. And Harry was conscious of the fact that now was not perhaps the appropriate time to argue with Severus.

"I love you," Harry said, giving Severus a quick hug. He knew Severus would not wish to be distracted by sentimental goodbyes at a time like this.

To Harry's surprise, Severus stopped what he was doing, took Harry's face in his hands, gave him a kiss and said, "I love you too." With that, he headed swiftly for the door.

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Despite his better judgment, Harry had followed Severus's request and gone up to Gryffindor Tower. After a few torturous minutes of pretending to listen to his friends' conversations about Quidditch, he'd excused himself and gone up to bed. Lying there in the darkness, he was wracked with anxiety about Severus. He hated this waiting. Last time, Severus hadn't told him when he'd been summoned. Last time. That was a reassuring thought. Severus had gone to Voldemort two times before in the last two months without incident.

As that reassuring thought occurred to him, Harry felt the amulet on his neck grow unusually warm. The sensation was not at all a comfortable one, leaving Harry with an intense feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know how, but somehow Harry knew that all was not well with Severus. Quickly donning his robes, Harry snuck back down to the dungeons under the cover of his Invisibility Cloak and waited for Severus to return.

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It was two hours before the door to Severus's quarters opened. Harry was on his feet in an instant and his brain pounded in a mixture of relief that Severus was back and concern for his condition. Severus stumbled into the sitting room a moment later, vehemently rejecting the assistance being proffered him by the Headmaster, who was following immediately behind.

"Severus, for Merlin's sake, let me help you," Dumbledore said.

"I'm fine, Albus," Snape insisted even as his face grimaced with each step he took. It was immediately clear to Harry that Severus had been subjected to the Cruciatus curse – his eyes were horribly bloodshot, his face was incredibly pale, and he hobbled in a way that left no doubt that his back muscles had been twisted in agony.

Snape stopped abruptly when he noticed Harry's presence. "What are you doing here?" The question was not posed kindly, but it roused Harry from his frozen state nonetheless. He rushed immediately to Severus's side.

"I could tell you were hurt. I had to come."

Snape did not look pleased by this news. He took a seat on the sofa, and with a look of consternation asked, "You had another dream?"

"No. I could just feel it," Harry said, lifting the amulet from his chest.

"I shall have to adjust those charms then. It is obviously too sensitive," Snape grumbled.

Harry placed a pillow behind Severus's back, which only caused the man to grouse, "For Merlin's sake, both of you need to stop fussing!"

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Nothing that concerns you," Severus replied immediately. "Now, the Headmaster and I have some things to discuss and you need to go back to Gryffindor Tower."

"No."

"Harry, we've discussed this," Snape said firmly. "This is the one part of my life I cannot have you involved in."

"I know you have a rule or whatever about Order business, but you're hurt and I want to know why."

Sensing the growing tension between the two men, Dumbledore attempted to mediate the situation. "Perhaps, Severus, it would be better if I left. We can discuss this tomorrow when you are rested and feeling better and―"

"No, Albus. We're going to discuss it now," Snape said adamantly.

"Alright. Then perhaps it wouldn't hurt if Harry stayed." Before Severus could argue the point, Dumbledore turned his attention to Harry and added, "Just this one time, of course."

Severus sighed in resignation. He seemed too tired to argue. "Fine."

"I'll get your potions," Harry offered quickly, before Severus could change his mind. He made his way to the cabinet in the far corner of the room to fetch Severus's potions, while listening intently to the conversation between the two men.

"He was not thrilled with me…obviously," Snape said, gesturing to his abused body. "He's livid that so many raids are failing of late. And he doesn't understand how the Order seems to be one step ahead of him at every turn."

"And he took his frustrations out on you."

"Not only me, I assure you." A pause. "Yet and still…he's planned another raid in two days, this one on the Muggle Ambassador."

"That's quite an ambitious target," Dumbledore said with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, especially given the high profile failures of late."

Harry could see Dumbledore studying Severus very carefully before the elder wizard finally asked, "What are you thinking, Severus?"

Severus's next words came out slowly. "Given the significance of the target, I can't help but think all is not what it seems, Albus."

As comprehension dawned on Dumbledore's face, his expression became grave at once. "You believe it's a ruse to flush out the leak?"

When Harry spoke, both men looked up at him as thought they'd forgotten he was there. "You're saying that Vol…I mean, _he's_ making up this raid thing as bait? To see if you'll tell Professor Dumbledore and the Order about it?"

Despite Severus not wanting Harry to be privy to this conversation, he couldn't help but be impressed by Harry's perceptiveness. "It is a possibility…" Snape answered tentatively, with a composure that contrasted the panic-stricken look on Harry's face and the disturbed grimace on Dumbledore's.

"Calm down, both of you," Snape reprimanded. "If he knew it was me, I would not have left there tonight."

"But he used the Cruciatus on you," Harry argued.

"Not just on me. And honestly, I'm surprised it's taken him this long. I haven't given him a good piece of information in months. And it certainly doesn't help that Lucius is constantly whispering in the Dark Lord's ear about me."

"We will have to give him something," Dumbledore said.

"I don't think anything small will work this time, Albus," Snape replied dejectedly.

"I quite agree, my boy. It will have to be something of consequence."

"What could we possibly give him that won't compromise the Order?"

"Let me have a long think and we can discuss this tomorrow."

"Albus, this can't wait―"

"I'll be down first thing in the morning and we can hash out some ideas together," Dumbledore reassured him. "For now, I will leave you to rest and in Harry's very capable hands. Goodnight, my boys."

"Goodnight, Professor," Harry replied. Once Dumbledore was gone, Harry said, "Let's get you into bed."

Predictably, Snape grumbled all the way there and after giving Severus the requisite potions, Harry settled in bed next to his lover.

"Thank you for letting me stay, Severus," Harry whispered as he cast a heating charm on Severus's back. Harry knew that Severus was not at all pleased at his insistence to stay and the last thing he wanted was for Severus to be angry with him.

"Yes well," Snape replied, much more kindly than Harry had anticipated, "I believe I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm not immune to your powers of persuasion."

A pause. "Is that your convoluted code for _'I love you'_?" Harry asked in amusement.

Severus smirked as he replied, "A spy never reveals his codes."

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_**Author's Note:**_ Thank you again for your overwhelming response to the previous chapters and for taking the time to comment/review. It is much appreciated.

Big thanks to my incredible two betas: Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui.

Feedback is always desired.


	6. Memory in a bottle

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake **by **CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 6: Memory in a bottle**

Severus Snape's face was cold as stone as Harry Potter circled the Quidditch pitch in victory, the golden snitch proudly displayed in his hand.

Snape made sure his scowl was deeper than usual as he made a rapid exit, hoping to avoid the crowds and, most of all, one woman in particular.

"Severus…"

But to no avail.

A very smug Minerva McGonagall rounded on him. "It appears that Gryffindor will be in the finals yet again."

"Isn't it a bit early in the year to be making such statements?" Snape asked in feigned surprise, although he already knew the answer from Harry's repeated monologues on the topic.

With a wide grin, McGonagall gloated, "But with today's impressive score added to the season's tally, even if Gryffindor were to lose every game from now through the end of the season – however unlikely – we are guaranteed a spot in the finals. Quite the tremendous feat, wouldn't you say?"

"Impressed as I am with your mathematical acumen, Minerva, I have better things to do with my time than concern myself with Quidditch statistics."

"You're just a spoilsport, Severus…"

A series of cheers from the Gryffindor team interrupted Snape's retort. He heard Harry proclaim, "A round of butterbeers for everyone!" and the group headed off down the path to Hogsmeade. Before Snape could respond, McGonagall stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm taking them to Hogsmeade, Severus."

"That is an outright violation of the school rules!" he replied with mock outrage, but secretly he was smiling at Harry's victory and the well-deserved reward that was to come for the young man this afternoon.

McGonagall huffed in response. "I doubt you'd be so uptight if Slytherin had won. I think Gryffindor deserves a little celebration." With a smirk, she added, "You are, of course, welcome to join us."

"I hope the weather keeps up for you," he replied and stalked off. The snow was beginning to fall much more heavily now and the wind had picked up.

With McGonagall out of the way, Snape turned his attention to more pressing matters and surveyed the departing crowds of students and spectators. He spotted a tall man with sleek blond hair beneath the stands in the presence of his junior. The elder man was very likely berating his son for the loss. As Snape made his way towards the pair, Snape found the notion a comical one. It had been an outstanding maneuver on Harry's part that had won the game, not any particular fault of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"Enough of your excuses, Draco…you know how important this is…"

"I know, Father, I just―"

"Perhaps, Draco," Snape interrupted, startling both men, "you should join your team for the postpartum."

Draco didn't need any further encouragement and left swiftly.

Snape could feel Lucius giving him a hard once over. With a self-satisfied smirk he remarked, "My, my… you look quite fatigued, Severus. Are those dark circles under your eyes? I don't imagine you're getting much sleep, after all, especially given the… _unsettling_ nature of our last encounter."

Snape knew quite well that Malfoy was referring to the Death Eater meeting just two nights prior where he'd been subjected to the Cruciatus.

"Quite frankly, Lucius," Snape retorted sharply, "I'm surprised to see you here. I would have thought you'd have more pressing matters to attend to," Snape finished, alluding to the supposed Death Eater raid planned on the Muggle Ambassador this evening.

"Everything is under control, Severus, rest assured."

"Perhaps I might be of assistance?" Snape offered, trying to gauge Malfoy's reaction.

"If your assistance was needed, I'm sure you would have been asked," Malfoy replied dismissively.

Tired of beating around the bush, Snape erected a series of wards around them and snapped angrily, "Tell me, just what is it precisely that you have been whispering in our Lord's ear, Lucius?"

A smile appeared on the blond wizard's face, but it was not a pleasant sight. "It seems I was right… you are unsettled."

"Not at all," Severus replied smoothly, "I'd just like to know what lies you've been spreading for your personal gain."

"I hardly think them lies."

"Then why don't you share them openly?"

"You are far too close to that old man," Malfoy spat out, raising his cane in the direction of the castle.

"That's my job, you imbecile!"

"It's your job to socialize with him at all hours of the night?" Malfoy inquired silkily.

Snape's mind whirled around that information – someone had noticed him leaving Dumbledore's quarters at late hours. More significantly, someone was watching. Despite this revelation, Snape did not miss a beat. "You try prying information out of him any other way, Lucius. His brain is more addled than a mad hatter's."

Malfoy snorted with amusement. Snape wasn't sure if the explanation had appeased him or if he enjoyed hearing criticism about Dumbledore. Either way, he decided to press his advantage.

"Besides, if you're in any way implying that I'm to blame for the ineptitude of some of our 'friends,' you're wasting our Lord's time, not to mention delaying our Lord's efforts in finding the real culprit."

Snape could discern the flicker of fear cross Malfoy's features.

"After all," Snape continued, "I'm sure he has formed a plan to flush out the leak." It was a leading statement and Snape hoped it would tell him what it was he needed to know.

"Of course he has. Our Lord is always prepared," Malfoy replied, but gave no further information.

"What is it you aren't you telling me, Lucius? Am I out of the loop?" Snape pressed.

"I defer to our Lord's wisdom."

"As do I."

"If you are…_innocent_," Malfoy said with clear sarcasm, "then you have nothing to worry about. But, if you are not, well then…I need not say more."

Snape had not been expecting this – such an outward admission of suspicion from Lucius. This was not good sign. His emboldened attitude suggested that the Dark Lord might believe his suspicions.

"Good day, Severus," Malfoy said with a mock bow and left without another word.

Severus Snape recognized that Lucius Malfoy had intended to off-balance him during their conversation, to upset him with words of accusation, threats, and inferences that the Dark Lord knew a great deal more than he was revealing. Snape knew Lucius was walking away right now with a smile on his face, no doubt feeling quite smug with himself.

But the very last thing Lucius Malfoy would have ever expected was that as Snape made his way towards the castle, he did so with a smile of his own. He'd found out everything he needed to know.

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The Three Broomsticks was jam-packed with rowdy Gryffindors celebrating their victory by getting high on sweets and butterbeer.

After nearly two hours of unrestrained celebration that showed no signs of coming to a close, Hermione Granger decided now was the best time to ask a favour of Professor McGonagall, who was imbibing a great deal more than butterbeer.

"Professor, do you mind if I run across the street to bookstore? I need to make a quick purchase."

"Sure, dear," McGonagall replied with a slight slur to her pronounced Irish brogue.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said, grabbing her friend. "I need your company."

The group nearest Harry began to protest, but Harry insisted he didn't mind. As he made his way out, he could hear a group of girls grumbling and heard mention of the word 'girlfriend.' If only they knew!

As soon as they stepped outside and the noise of the bar was behind them, Harry said, "Thanks, 'Mione."

"No problem, Harry. What's this about?"

"I'm getting a gift for Severus and I need your advice. I had planned to mail-order something, but I figure, since we're here, I should look around."

"What's this for?"

"This Friday is our two month anniversary."

"Congratulations, Harry," Hermione beamed.

An hour later, the pair had argued the merits of each potential gift they'd come across. But nothing seemed to satisfy Harry. Now they were scanning the shelves at the Hogsmeade Apothecary.

"Harry, you need to pick something because we really have to get back. Professor McGonagall may be looped, but eventually she'll notice we've been gone too long."

"But I don't know what to get."

"How about a book? The selection isn't as good as Flourish & Blotts, but I think I have a pretty good idea of what he'd like. Not to mention that I pretty much know what's in his library by now."

"I've already gotten him a book before. Besides, if I get Severus a book, he'll know you picked it out. I want it to be from _me_, you know? Something meaningful."

"Oh, you're so sweet, Harry," Hermione said somewhat wistfully. What boy did she know that was so invested in a relationship that they tormented themselves over the perfect two-month anniversary present?

Harry must have sensed her thought. "I just don't want to muck this up, 'Mione."

"You can't, Harry. If he cares for you as much as I think he does, you could get him a red and gold scarf and I'm sure he'd like it. Well," she amended with a smile, "maybe not _that_."

They both began to laugh, when something caught Harry's eye: a shelf of decorative glass potions vials. One in particular grabbed his attention; it was about three inches in height, cobalt blue with flecks of platinum embedded in the glass.

"It's perfect," he said. Calling over the proprietor, he said, "I'll take this and also I'll need some ingredients; an ounce each of Belladonna leaf, yarrow flowers and mandrake root."

"Of course, sir, but unfortunately our stock of mandrake root has just expired. We've a fresh batch coming in soon…"

"No, the old stuff is fine, and if you could just put all those ingredients inside that vial for me, that'd be great, we're in a bit of a hurry."

The proprietor eyed Harry as though he were insane but did not argue.

Hermione, on the other hand, protested at once. "Harry, old mandrake root is almost worthless and all these ingredients need to be packed separately to preserve their potency and integrity."

"Don't worry, 'Mione, I know what I'm doing."

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Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's tower, Severus Snape was finishing his second cup of ginger honey tea. He eyed Dumbledore, who was seated in the chair across from him and had steepled the tips of his fingers together as he often did when he was deep in thought. Neither had spoken for several minutes. Snape was not at all uncomfortable by the long silence; he knew Albus needed the time to think.

Finally, Dumbledore reached for his cup of tea, reheated it with a wave of his hand, and said, "Are you certain, Severus?"

"It was clear as day."

"Quite the talented Legilimens you've become, dear boy."

"Hardly. Lucius was never an Occlumens, although he does fancy himself one. Tonight's supposed raid on the Muggle Ambassador is definitely a ruse – there is no such raid planned."

"That does fit the lack of intelligence from the Order about such an attack."

"It gets even better. I discovered another very useful piece of information while Lucius was doing his level best to intimidate me. There will be a raid, but _tomorrow_ night, and not on the Ambassador, but on a Muggle village."

"And this wasn't mentioned at the meeting?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not even a whisper."

"And there is no way you could have been privy to this information?"

"No. It's been kept secret from me deliberately, Albus." Snape paused briefly, allowing Dumbledore to digest this new information. "It's perfect, wouldn't you say?"

"It is indeed. I assume you already have something in mind?"

"In fact I do," Snape replied with a hint of a smile and began to detail his plan.

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From within the bushes, two dark eyes watched three men in the darkness. The trio had been lurking outside the heavily warded compound where the Muggle Ambassador to the Wizarding World resided. After waiting for nearly three hours, the small creature watching them heard one of the hooded and masked men say, "No one's coming."

The soft cracks of Disapparition could be heard as the men disappeared.

A moment later, a tabby cat emerged from her hiding place with what appeared to be a satisfied smile on its feline face.

Minerva McGonagall was in the Headmaster's sitting room less than 10 minutes later, relaying the events of the evening.

"They waited for three hours and made a few attempts to interfere with the outer wards, probably only for show. They finally gave up and left," McGonagall said. She stood and asked, "Is that all you needed?"

"Yes. Thank you, my dear, for your assistance," Dumbledore said. He waited until McGonagall had left the room before continuing, "This should help eliminate you from suspicion, don't you think, Severus?"

This information had confirmed Lucius's trap – the blond wizard had been counting on Snape to relay the information about the supposed attack on the Muggle Ambassador to the Order.

"It's a good start, but unfortunately, a lack of action on my part won't be enough to dissuade him or the Dark Lord. There's no better alibi than a scapegoat," Snape replied.

"Then let us hope, my boy, that tomorrow night goes according to plan," Dumbledore said.

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The next evening, when Severus Snape apparated to the outskirts of the Muggle village where the raid was to take place, he wouldn't have described the scene that was unfolding as going 'according to plan.' Where there were only supposed to be three Death Eaters, there were in fact five, and the members of the Order had their hands quite full.

Snape watched from the shadows, cloaked in his Death Eater robes and mask, hoping that the tide would turn. But when he saw Tonks stunned by whom he presumed was McNair, and a bolt of fire narrowly miss Shacklebolt, Snape carefully aimed his wand at Avery and Dolohov and petrified them both. Those two out of the way seemed to give Moody the upper hand – the ex-Auror was able to quickly bind Malfoy and Wormtail. Shacklebolt then incapacitated McNair by hitting him with a Stunner squarely in the chest.

That was Snape's cue. Emerging from his hiding place, he quickly stunned Shacklebolt. Moody immediately retaliated and the two battled for several minutes, exchanging a series of nasty hexes. As Moody's assault intensified, Snape wondered briefly if the crazed wizard had forgotten that it was him behind the mask. But finally, in a move highly uncharacteristic of constant vigilance, Moody became distracted by Tonks regaining consciousness and Snape bound him immediately.

With the Order members taken care of, Snape set about reviving and untying the five bewildered Death Eaters. As soon as Malfoy was on his feet, he pointed his wand at the helpless Moody and spat, "_Crucio_!"

"There's no time for that!" Snape snapped forcefully and ended the curse.

McNair, who was struggling to his feet, snarled, "We should kill them, S―"

"_Silencio_!" Snape intoned and immediately McNair fell silent. "Let's go!"

Tapping their Dark Marks in succession, Snape apparated the injured Death Eaters directly to their Master. He grabbed Malfoy and side-along apparated both of them to the Dark Lord's side a moment later.

Snape pulled off his mask at once and knelt in front of red-eyed wizard. The plan had gone flawlessly – or nearly so. But one major question remained: would the Dark Lord be convinced?

Voldemort probed the minds of the five Death Eaters in rapid succession, and was at once informed of their failure. But he did not miss a beat, and instead turned his attention on the man kneeling before him.

"Tell me, Severus, how is it that you came to be there tonight?"

"My Lord, I overheard a conversation amongst the Order about an attack rumoured to occur on a Muggle village this evening. They planned to deploy some of its members to investigate. Of course I knew of no such attack," Snape began silkily, "but I thought it would be prudent to tail them nonetheless."

Snape could feel Dark Lord's magic probing his mind. He did his best to paint a convincing picture of his loyalty. "Had I known there was to be such a raid, my Lord, I would have come directly to you with the information. When I arrived, I saw that the three Aurors had incapacitated this lot," Snape said, reveling in the fact that he was reinforcing the idea that three Aurors had taken down five of the Dark Lord's servants.

"They might have recognized your voice," Avery protested, trying desperately to find some way to shift the blame.

"I disguised my voice, of course. Fortunately, I managed to silence McNair before he revealed my identity, my Lord, so I do not believe they knew it was me." Snape managed a disgusted look on his face as he studied McNair. Inside, he was rejoicing at the man's sheer stupidity for nearly naming him. It had played right into his plan.

"We could have captured them…" Malfoy began.

"Not if I was going to get the five of you out of there alive. I knew reinforcements were just seconds away," Snape retorted.

With a great deal of trepidation, Snape met his Master's gaze. He could feel the pressure of the Dark Lord's Legilimency intensify exponentially, and he struggled to keep his cover story at the forefront of his mind.

Finally, after what felt like an excruciatingly long time, he heard the Dark Lord hiss, "I think perhaps, Severus, I should curse you."

Snape's body went hot as a wave of fear enveloped him. He'd been found out. It was all over. "My Lord?" he managed.

"For saving these five incompetents before me," Voldemort finished. "Perhaps it would have been better if you'd let them be captured. But then again, that would have denied me the pleasure of punishing them myself."

Not a second later, all five Death Eaters, Wormtail, Avery, Dolohov, McNair, and Malfoy, were on the ground crying out in the pain from the silent _Crucio_ that their enraged master had leveled at them.

"You've done very well, Severus."

Snape bowed dutifully and tried very hard not to exhale his relief aloud.

"Now then, the old fool will be hearing of this shortly, and no doubt he will want to question you. Go before he grows suspicious."

"Yes, my Lord," Snape said.

"I will summon you soon. In the meantime, I finally have my answer…the incompetence of these so called servants."

Snape apparated away to the sounds of screaming.

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Dumbledore was pacing rapidly in his study. He thought Severus would have been back by now. Kingsley, Alastor and Nymphadora were sitting in his office, waiting patiently. Tonks was trying to apply heating charms to Moody's back to help with the pain from the Cruciatus, but he was grumpily telling her he was fine.

When Dumbledore heard the staircase activate, he sighed in relief, but was surprised when Harry Potter, not Severus, entered his quarters.

"Professor, sorry to bother you so late, but I can't find S―"

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted before the boy could say anymore. "Come and join my guests."

Harry looked up with surprise at the group assembled in the Headmaster's office at this very late hour of night. Something had gone wrong. He knew it. He looked up at Dumbledore who shook his head.

"Wotcher, Harry."

"Hi, Tonks," Harry managed halfheartedly.

"Should the boy be here, Albus?" Shacklebolt asked.

"Of course he should," Moody growled. "'Bout time he got involved."

Dumbledore bade Harry to sit.

"So what are you doing here, Harry?" Tonks asked.

Harry looked up helplessly at Dumbledore, but the answer came not from the elder wizard, but from the doorway.

"Prying into other people's business, no doubt," Snape supplied.

With everyone's attention on Snape, no one noticed the almost goofy expression of relief on Harry's face.

"Severus, it's good to see you," Dumbledore said.

"How did it go?" Shacklebolt asked at once.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Snape replied. Stepping towards Moody, he handed the scarred wizard a small vial.

Moody took it reluctantly, eyed it for a moment and then glanced at Dumbledore who merely nodded encouragingly.

Moody opened the vial and took a long whiff. Snape scowled and said, "For Merlin's sake! If I wanted you dead, I might have sat by and watched it happen an hour ago."

"The situation was well in hand," Moody snapped.

"Not from my vantage point," Snape sneered.

Moody was about to retort, but was interrupted.

"Come on, Alastor, he saved our arses," Shacklebolt said. "Now drink the bloody potion."

To everyone's great surprise, Moody grumbled something under his breath and then did just that. A few seconds later, his face relaxed as the potion mitigated the effects of the Cruciatus.

"Well now," Dumbledore began, "it's late and I think it best to leave the debriefing for another time. Right now I need to speak with Severus alone."

Tonks, Moody and Shacklebolt all headed for the Floo. Once they were gone, Harry rushed into Severus's arms. "I came down to see you and you weren't there. I was worried."

"Well, as you can see, I am perfectly fine, brat."

Severus may have been joking, but Harry knew from the atmosphere in Dumbledore's quarters just minutes ago how precarious the situation had been. Harry hated this – that as long as that monster was alive, he risked losing Severus at anytime. The last thing Harry wanted was for Severus to ask him to leave now.

"Can I stay, please?" Harry asked.

Severus's normally hard line stance on Harry not being privy to the details of his spying was immediately softened when he saw the look on Harry's face. He appeared on the verge of tears.

"This once. Now come here."

Harry sat down on the sitting room couch next to his lover and lost himself in Severus's embrace.

After a moment, Dumbledore broke the silence, "Everything went well then?"

"It couldn't have gone any better, Albus. He was very pleased. And from what I saw, the Dark Lord is convinced that there is no real leak to speak of, but only the incompetence and general stupidity of the others. And they are no doubt still paying for it as we speak."

"That is excellent news, Severus. Your plan was very well thought out indeed." Dumbledore paused a moment and then finished, "We can discuss the details tomorrow morning. It's been a long night, and both of you should get some rest. You're welcome to use my Floo."

"Thank you, Albus. Goodnight. Come on, Harry."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said.

"Goodnight, boys."

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Harry pressed his lips against Severus's and kissed his lover until he needed to come up for air.

Severus tightened his hold on the young man and said, "I understand you were worried, Harry, but I had no plans to leave you."

Harry whispered tentatively, "I have something for you. I was going to give it to you on Friday for our two-month anniversary, but…I think I want to give it to you now."

"You didn't have to get me anything, Harry. You're all the present I need."

Harry retrieved the small gift-wrapped box from the bag he had left in Severus's quarters earlier.

Severus opened it to find a decorative potions vial filled with a mixture of ingredients. It took him but a moment to discern the contents and understand their meaning. Belladonna, yarrow and mandrake – the key ingredients of the anti-aphrodisiac they had brewed together over two months ago that had precipitated their sharing a bed and, ultimately, a lot more.

"Do you like it?" Harry asked, suddenly wondering if this had been a stupid idea.

"I love it, Harry. I love _you_."

"I know it's kind of corny, but―"

"It's nothing of the sort," Severus interrupted, his voice full of sincerity. Planting a series of gentle kisses on Harry's brow, Severus said, "I couldn't think of a better gift, Harry. You've bottled up a memory…"

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_Author's note: _First off, I want to thank all my readers for their patience. Real life has been insane – too insane to even bother complaining/rejoicing about so I will not say anymore. But I want to thank you all for staying with me and for your reviews/support. Although my updates may be sporadic from time to time, rest assured I will never let this story go unfinished.

This also applies to Unexpected Grace. To its fan, I owe an even bigger apology. I am now beginning to work on that chapter – although I can't say when an update will happen, I promise there will be one. I appreciate your loyalty!

Meanwhile, I am very much looking forward to your comments on this chapter…

Big thanks to my incredible two betas: Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui.

Feedback is always appreciated.


	7. Nothing of greater importance

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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Warnings for Slash content

This chapter is very mildly censored (to the point of being unnoticeable). Full text (is as always) available on Skyehawke and my LJ. Enjoy.  
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**In Memory's Wake **by **CocoaSnape  
Chapter 7: **Nothing of Greater Importance

"You're awfully quiet this morning, Severus," came the all too perceptive comment from Dumbledore.

"Oh?" Snape replied, stunned from his reverie by his long time employer and friend. "I was just thinking."

"Are you, by chance, somehow doubting your success last night?"

"No," Snape responded, then paused for a long moment as though he were about to change his mind, before finally saying, "No, that's not it."

A long moment of silence passed between them before the elder wizard asked, "Tell me what it is that has you so worried, dear boy."

"Nothing."

"Ah, of course. That does explain that worried look on your face."

"It's not important, Albus," Snape replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Perhaps you're right," Dumbledore agreed. "But do indulge an old man, won't you?"

Snape inhaled deeply before beginning. "It's just… I had expected to be called late last night or perhaps early this morning and…" Snape paused.

Dumbledore continued helpfully, "And you're concerned that perhaps Voldemort was not convinced of your loyalty during your charade last night?"

Snape shook his head. "No. I'm certain he was more than convinced."

Dumbledore took a sip of his tea and delicately placed the cup back on the saucer. He leaned forward in his chair and began gently, "Perhaps, Severus, you're less concerned about having _not_ been summoned, than you are anxious about the fact that you know you will be called in the very near future."

"Don't be absurd, Albus," came Snape's far too rapid reply.

"There's no shame in being apprehensive. You do seem rather preoccupied this morning."

"I'm not," Snape denied just as he added a pat of butter to his tea. "Damn it!"

"Here, I'll get you a fresh cup." Dumbledore raised his hand to do just that, but Snape stopped him.

"I don't want anymore damn tea," he snapped.

"As you wish," Dumbledore replied evenly.

The silence that stretched between the two men was a long one, the longest of the morning. But neither felt uncomfortable – they'd been friends for a long time after all, and there was rarely any unease between them. After Dumbledore cleared away the long forgotten breakfast, he whispered, "I know exactly what you need, Severus."

"Oh?"

"A pot of your favorite tea and a friendly game of chess." A wave of his hand made both objects appear, the chess board already set.

"Is that right?" Snape asked dubiously.

"Although I must warn you," Dumbledore added with a mischievous glint in his eye. And with almost a completely straight face, Dumbledore finished, "I'm going to kick your arse."

Snape couldn't help but laugh out loud. He rarely heard such words from his friend. Snape leaned forward, grabbed a pawn and made the first move. "Not today, Albus. Not today."

"That's the spirit, my boy." Dumbledore beamed.

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Exhausted from a full day of classes, the Gryffindor trio made their way down the main hall of Hogwarts in the direction of their common room. But a notice posted on the main bulletin board caught Ron's attention and stopped him in his tracks.

"They're finally here!"

"What are?" Harry asked.

"The Auror applications, of course," Ron replied, while grabbing two off the board. "What do you say we fill these out tonight?"

Harry cringed. He thought he'd been dropping enough hints to Ron that going to the Auror Academy was not what he wanted to do next year, or for that matter, ever. But now it was apparent that his attempts had been far too subtle. He glanced over at Hermione, who having obviously gotten his message, responded with a sympathetic smile.

Harry looked around. The frigid February air had left the courtyard outside deserted and so he directed his friends outside for some privacy. Harry began carefully, "Ron, I'm not applying to the Auror Academy."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not for me."

"What are you on about? Of course it is. We've been talking about it since fifth year."

"You've been talking about it. I mean, of course I was interested back then too, but things have changed."

Ron looked around before whispering angrily, "This is 'bout _him_ again, isn't it?"

"No," Harry replied at once, but then guiltily added, "Well, sort of, but not in the way you think."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Ron," Hermione interjected, "you should hear Harry out."

"You're always on about how you have to learn to defeat Voldemort," Ron reasoned. "I mean, don't you think the Academy is going to teach you the things you need to do that?"

"That's what I'm having lessons with Severus for."

"Oh, some _lessons_ they are, I'm sure," Ron mocked.

"Yeah, they are," Harry snapped. "And according to Severus, I'm already doing magic that's way beyond what they'd ever teach me in Auror Academy. He says that's a waste of time for me."

"Oh, he does, does he?" Ron said, crossing his arms in front of him.

Harry sighed. "A waste of time for _me,_ Ron."

"So this does have to do with him then!"

"My not wanting to become an Auror doesn't. I haven't wanted that for a long time," Harry said.

"Why not?"

"If I do ever manage to kill Voldemort, do you really think I'd want to spend the rest of my life hunting dark wizards?"

Ron stared at Harry, clearly not understanding why his friend wouldn't want to do just that. "So then, where exactly will you stay?"

"Here," Harry replied. "I'm going to live with Severus."

"That's it for you then?" Ron snapped angrily. "You're just gonna stay here and be his rent boy?"

Without warning, Ron felt his head fly violently to the side and the sharp sting on his left cheek where he'd been cuffed. The redhead was stunned, but even more so when he looked up and saw that it was Hermione, not Harry, who had struck him.

Harry was too upset to speak. Ron's words were ringing in his ears and he felt tears welling up in his eyes at what his friend, his best friend, had just said. Without a word, he ran inside and down the corridor.

With a vicious calm, Hermione rounded on Ron, "I wouldn't blame him if he never forgives you for that."

"Hermione, I didn't mean…"

Ron never got the chance to finish his sentence. Hermione was already on her way toward the common room.

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By the time Harry made it down to the dungeons, the tears that had once threatened to spill from his eyes were dry and all traces of sadness at Ron's words with them. The emotion overwhelming the young man at this moment was anger, rage that the person he thought was his best friend would ever say, would ever think something like that about him.

As Harry entered Severus's quarters, he violently threw his book bag across the room, cursing, "Arsehole!"

"I certainly hope you're not referring to me," Severus said, peeking around the sofa.

Harry grunted something under his breath.

"What's got your broom in a knot?" Severus asked.

"I don't need your sarcasm at the moment," Harry snapped.

Snape stared wide-eyed at the brashness of his young lover before beginning levelly, "Perhaps you should calm down and tell me what's the matter."

"I'm not in the mood for company," Harry snapped. And without another word, he grabbed his Firebolt from the closet and headed off for the pitch.

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Harry realized almost at once that he'd left his snitch in his room in Gryffindor Tower. Finding himself in the mood for some daredevil flying maneuvers, and confident most everyone was at dinner, he decided to retrieve it.

But on the way down the stairs from his room, he saw that both Ron and Hermione had returned from dinner and were in the common room. Anxious to escape Ron's presence, Harry donned his Invisibility cloak.

He planned to follow Dean out the door, but stopped short. Ron and Hermione were talking but their voices could not be heard. Curious, Harry stepped inside the circle of their privacy charms.

"Ron," Hermione lectured, "I'm not sure if you understand how horrible you were. You just better hope that Harry will accept your apology."

"He called being an Auror stupid," Ron retorted.

"He did no such thing, and even if he did, it wouldn't compare to what you said to him."

Noticing the pile of books at Hermione's feet, Ron rounded on her, "And when did you get those?"

"Yesterday, not that it's any of your business."

"It is my business," Ron asserted. "I'm sick of this 'special project' you're working on with Snape."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I don't want you seeing him anymore."

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked incensed. "Who exactly do you think you are? What gives you the right to tell me who I can and can't see?"

Ron looked flummoxed by the question. "I…I…" Ron paused for a long moment and then continued, "I just think Harry needs to get over this obsession he has with Snape."

Harry grit his teeth and barely resisted the urge to fling himself at Ron. He couldn't believe Ron was still saying these things. Apparently, neither could Hermione.

"Back to this again? For heaven's sake, Ron, it's not an obsession. Besides, Professor Snape is good for Harry."

"Yeah right."

"It's true. He's doing outstanding in all his classes."

"That's all that matters to you? His marks?"

"That's not all of it, Ron! If you spent any time with Harry while he's with Professor Snape, you'd understand. Harry's happy… in a way I've never seen him before. When are you going to let go and see that? You're the selfish one, Ron. You can't get over the fact that Harry's fallen in love and that he's spending all his time with someone other than you."

"It has nothing to do with that."

"Then what does it have to do with?" Hermione asked skeptically.

Ron was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he seemed almost choked up as he violently asserted, "That git's going to break Harry's heart! You watch."

Hermione seemed stunned by this sudden emotion from Ron. Harry found himself equally shocked.

Ron continued yet more vehemently, "You don't think I know Harry loves him? Trust me, I know. I don't want to see him go through losing all that again – first with his parents, then Sirius… It's gonna tear him up. He shouldn't have to go through that again!"

Hermione eyed Ron in silent shock, unable to quite fathom the complexity of his concern for Harry. "Ron," she began in a soft tone, "that's...I'd say sweet if you hadn't been such an arse earlier. I mean, you're right in a way, of course. It is _possible_ that Professor Snape will break Harry's heart. It's also possible that the reverse might happen." Hermione looked at Ron intently, and her tone changed as she added significantly, "That's what happens when you put yourself out there. There's always that risk when it comes to relationships. But if you don't try, if you're too afraid of being rejected, then you'll never get the chance to find out if you're missing something because of fear."

Ron seemed to be thinking heavily. After a long pause, he asked, "Are we still talking about Harry?"

Hermione looked surprised – she hadn't expected Ron to understand. "Yes and no." A pause. "Ron, your concerns are _swee_t. Even though I know very well that your attitude has more to do with the fact that you don't like Professor Snape."

"I already told you I thought Snape was an evil git. That's my point – he's going to break Harry's heart."

"I don't believe that's going to happen."

"And how would you know? You're just saying that because that's what Harry's convinced you of. And you're so sentimental, you want to believe him. For all we know, this could be some big game to Snape or maybe just some short-term fling for him."

"It's more than that," Hermione asserted. "You should see them together – it's…there's something there, Ron, and I'm not imagining it. It's like they're meant to be together."

Ron said nothing to that.

Hermione urged, "You should apologize to Harry for what you said."

"I will."

"Apology accepted," Harry said, pulling off the cloak. "As long as you accept mine for eavesdropping, that is."

As Ron's shock faded, he found his voice and said, "Yeah, mate, sure. I am sorry for being such a git."

"And I'm sorry Hermione slapped you," Harry replied.

"I'm not," Hermione interjected with a half serious smile.

Ron rubbed the side of his jaw. "She packs quite a bit of power with that."

"And knowing Hermione, you're still surprised?" Harry asked with a chuckle.

"Well, you two better excuse me," Hermione said. "I have to return these books. I'll see you both later."

After Hermione left the common room, Ron began hesitantly, "Listen, mate, I didn't really mean what I said before----"

"Yes you did."

"Well, you know I'm not fond of this thing with you and Snape. But I didn't mean to imply… well, it's just that I was just thinking it'd be the two of us again, you know, in Auror training. Like old times."

"Ron," Harry began reassuringly, "We'll always be friends, no matter what. My being with Severus isn't going to change that."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Harry replied, giving his friend a pat on the shoulder. "But it would be nice if you at least _tried_ to respect my relationship with Severus."

With a reluctant sigh, Ron agreed, "I'll try, mate."

"Hey, I was just about to go out to the pitch. Want to join me?"

Ron's eyes lit up with glee. "Wicked! Let's go."

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"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir," Hermione said, "I was just returning these books. I thought you'd be at dinner."

"Not a problem, Miss Granger. As I said before, you are welcome to my library anytime."

"I've made a bit of headway into the Runes on your Pensieve, Professor. But I think I should review some more texts on glyphic Rune symbology before I can be certain of my claims."

"Hmm," Snape began thoughtfully as he entered the library and searched one shelf in particular. "I believe Lakin's treatise would be a good place to start," he finished, handing her the text.

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said, clutching the book excitedly. "Perhaps we can meet in a few days to discuss my ideas, then?"

"I would be delighted to hear your findings and I do appreciate your help, Miss Granger."

"Not at all, Professor. This has been one of the most exciting projects I've ever worked on."

"Given my fondness for Ancient Runes, I find myself very glad indeed to have your assistance, Miss Granger."

"Sir," Hermione began hesitantly, "you can call me Hermione, you know."

Snape tensed visibly and Hermione could tell at once that she had overstepped. She tried to backpedal. "I mean, only if you want, of course. Or perhaps you'd rather wait till the end of the year until I'm not your student. After all, eventually you'll probably want to call me Hermione. I mean, it'd be rather silly if you called me Miss Granger forever now, wouldn't it?"

Snape was nothing short of astonished. _Forever?_ She actually believed he and Harry would be together that long?

At Snape's lack of response, Hermione continued, "Or not. I'm fine with Miss Granger if that's what you prefer, sir."

"Forgive my silence, but I find myself surprised. I know you may not be precisely opposed to Harry's relationship with me, but I must admit my amazementthat your approval seems so… unreserved."

"Why wouldn't it be, sir? I mean, I don't imagine this is some sort of fling – for either of you," Hermione replied.

Snape's mouth quirked in amusement. "And pray tell what has made you arrive at that conclusion?"

Hermione couldn't believe how far she'd managed to wedge her foot in her mouth. Now she was left having to explain. "Well, first of all, Harry wouldn't have put himself through all this trouble telling me and Ron if it were and secondly…" At this, she paused, too embarrassed to say that she could tell Harry was head over heels in love.

"And secondly?" Snape prodded.

"Oh nothing, just…" Hermione couldn't help but blush. "Just I can tell that Harry's fond of you, more than fond, and well, you seem…" She stopped. Was she really about to tell Professor Snape that she thought he was equally fond of Harry? She must have lost her mind.

"And I seem, what?" Snape asked, smirking at her predicament.

"Nothing, never mind. Anyway, Professor, that's my treatise on why you should call me Hermione, if you want to that is."

"Thank you, Miss Granger."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle slightly at that, but she should have expected it. Remembering Ron's words earlier this evening, she said, "I just hope Ron will come around in time as well."

"I take it then, that Mr. Weasley is continuing to be difficult?"

"Didn't Harry tell you?"

"No, but ah, that does explain his mood this evening. And he went flying – I should have known. What happened?"

"Oh, Ron said something he shouldn't have. And it ended with me smacking Ron in the face…" Hermione stopped. Had she just admitted to assaulting another student to her Professor? What was wrong with her?

"I'm sure it was warranted, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor…" Hermione's eyes bulged and Snape continued with a sly smile, "for your research on the Runes, of course."

"Of course, Professor," Hermione replied with a smile.

Snape hesitated a moment before beginning with significance, "I do want to thank you, Miss Granger, for being such a good friend to Harry. It is reassuring to know that he has stable friends around him."

Hermione could feel how profoundly uncomfortable Snape was in saying this. And suddenly the strangest thought came into her head – Ron's words about this being nothing more than a short-term thing to Snape. And she realized that Snape had never said he felt the same way as Harry, or anything of the sort.

"It isn't, right?" she asked suddenly.

Snape looked at her in confusion.

"… a short term thing?" Hermione finished. She blushed straight away, but ploughed on. "I know it's not my business, sir, but Harry's so taken with you… and…"

"And you don't want to see him hurt?" Snape supplied. He might have been annoyed by the brazenness of her question, had its motivation not been her obvious protectiveness for Harry.

Hermione nodded.

"Trust me, Miss Granger," Snape said in a tone that conveyed his seriousness on the matter, "my priority above all else in this world is to make sure that Harry is not hurt. There could be nothing of greater importance to me than Harry's happiness."

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Hermione replied, astonished by his candor.

"And, Miss Granger," Snape added with a quirk of his head, "perhaps one day, your first name will not feel so inaccessible."

It was as close to an admission of friendship that Hermione had ever heard from Severus Snape.

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Somewhere in the middle of grabbing the snitch right from Ron's grasp did Harry realize that he'd been an utter arse to Severus. After a few more laps around the pitch, he feigned fatigue in an effort to cut his outing with Ron short. He knew he needed to get to Severus as soon as possible and detail what had happened with Ron. He felt confident Severus would understand and forgive him once he'd had a chance to explain.

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"_Incarcerous_," Snape bellowed, his curse flying directly at Harry.

Harry managed to duck behind the sofa in time and cast a curse of his own, "_Incendio_!"

Harry peaked from behind his safe haven in time to see that the curse he'd just sent was whizzing back at him courtesy of a shield reflection charm the Potions master had cast without effort.

Without warning, Harry's robes were on fire, but somehow the heat was not scorching his flesh, just the clothing he wore. He cast the first counter-curse that came into mind, _Aguamenti_, which left him drenched, caked in soot, and Severus laughing hysterically at his predicament.

"You're awfully fond of that damn _Incendio_ charm." Harry grimaced.

"Then perhaps you should have learned how to fend it off by now," Snape replied.

Harry still couldn't quite believe they were having dueling lessons in the living room of all places. But Severus had cast protective charms on all of his possessions, such that apparently the only thing left to be damaged were Harry's clothes.

"Let's resume, shall we?" Severus suggested.

"Do I have a choice?" Harry muttered.

"Would you prefer Occlumency lessons?"

"Perhaps I should practice it a bit, don't you think?" Harry suggested mischievously. A second later, he was sending a series of images to Severus's mind.

_Harry and Severus, lying on their sides, naked. Lying head to toe, while Harry sucked Severus into his mouth. Severus moaning around Harry's length as he did so. _

Harry could see that Severus was lost in the fantasy he was sending, and the evidence of his arousal was already becoming clear through his dark robes. Harry took his chance and fired, "_Stupefy_!"

But Snape was more than ready and a rapid response left him unharmed and Harry bound in tightening robes.

Harry couldn't believe it! He thought for sure he had the upper hand that time. "You're really good at this," Harry muttered in amazement.

"I am quite aware," Severus replied, his mouth quirking with amusement. "However… _enticing_ your distraction might have been – and make no mistake, Mr. Potter, I was enticed – you made the critical mistake of inadequately shielding your intention to curse me."

"Are you going to untie me?"

"Perhaps," Snape replied. "_Finite Incantatum_," he said and Harry was at once free. But only a second later, Snape cast a second, far more dangerous curse, "_Imperio_!"

Damn, Harry thought, Severus was really pushing him tonight. They rarely practiced resisting the Imperius, but Harry supposed his earlier stunt gave Severus the right to play a bit dirty.

Harry could hear the command ringing in his ears. _Put down your wand and kneel at my feet._ He wanted to do it, more than anything. And yet, he did not.

The command came again, much stronger this time, such that it was nearly burning in his brain. It was exceedingly difficult not to obey – but to do the opposite was almost impossible. Almost.

Harry had tried spells in this position before, but nothing ever worked. So he let his mind go completely blank and one word came to him, _Expelliarmus_.

Half a second later, Severus's wand was in his hand, and the Imperius dropped instantly. Harry was stunned speechless. He looked up and found himself absorbed by the look on Severus's face. He wished he could have photographed him in that moment, the dark burning glare, the way his mouth curved just so. In any other situation, Harry would have thought he was in trouble.

Severus stalked toward him and somehow was not an ounce less intimidating even though he was wandless.

"Did you just disarm me, Mr. Potter?" Snape whispered silkily.

"First time for everything," Harry replied, not even quite able to believe it himself. And then, in a rush, in a sudden need to explain, he insisted, "It was an accident. I did it without thinking really."

"Even better."

Snape pinned Harry against the wall and grabbed him forcefully by the shoulders.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Give it back this instant!" Snape demanded.

Harry complied at once, stunned when Severus pointed the wand at him again.

"_Divesto_," came the whispered spell, leaving Harry's shirt and trousers undone, and in the next instant Severus was on him, pressing their bodies flush. Harry could feel Severus's erection poking his belly and he groaned.

This had been foreplay, plain and simple. There was no mistaking that look of dark satisfaction on Severus's face or the tone of his voice when he drawled, "I'm going to devour you now, my Harry."

"Oh god," came the young man's only response as his lover hoisted him up and carried him to the wool rug in front of the hearth.

There was no uncertainly to be found in Severus's movements – he knew exactly what he wanted and how. With one precise flick of his wand, Harry was naked and Severus's mouth was devouring Harry's body from top to bottom through hungry kisses and needy bites. It didn't take long for Severus to reach his destination. Harry was already fully erect by this time, and Severus wasted no time in taking Harry fully into his mouth.

Between gasping breaths, Harry's mind drifted to the fantasy he had shown Severus just a minute before. With a great deal of restraint, he pushed down on Severus's shoulders, signaling his lover to stop.

Severus didn't have to ask why Harry had pushed him away. One look into his young lover's eyes explained Harry's wishes and Severus was all to glad to comply with them. He cast a spell to remove his own clothing and turned around so that Harry would be able to return the favor as well.

Severus resumed his task, but it took Harry a long moment to find enough willpower to control his own movements. But the smell of Severus's arousal so near him was too much of an enticement to pass up for much longer. He licked a path along the sensitive length before he wrapped his lips around it and began to gently suck. As soon as he did, Severus let out a throaty moan, which reverberated right along his own arousal. The vibration was an exhilarating sensation and experimentally, Harry moaned back in reply.

This was the first time they had shared this sexual position – and both couldn't help but be in awe at how connected they each felt with the other.

Through his haze of pleasure, Severus marveled at how well they responded to other's movements and desires, almost as though their bodies had known each other forever, despite having been lovers for just two month's time.

For Harry, the experience was both new and thrilling – he'd never imagined he'd find another way to be so completely intimate with Severus for the first time. The act of giving and receiving pleasure at the same moment was as overwhelming as it was without equal.

It didn't take long before both men were thrusting into each other's mouths, while emitting blissful groans that echoed delightfully along their flesh, driving their pulsating need to new heights. With a muffled cry, Harry's body shuddered as he spilled himself down his lover's throat. The feel of Harry's climax triggered Severus's own just moments later and Harry did his best to drink down every drop.

It took a few minutes before either man had the energy to move, but ultimately it was Severus who dragged himself up and turned so that he was lying beside his young lover.

"That was…" Harry began breathily.

"Nothing short of amazing," Severus finished with a deep exhale.

"Yeah," Harry sighed with a satiated smile on his face. Harry turned and eyed Severus lying beside him on the wool rug, his hair a mess and his lips swollen and red. He felt his heart skip a beat at the realization – Severus Snape was his lover. And they were in love. Nothing in the world could be more perfect.

Severus could feel Harry's thoughts bubbling across the surface of his mind, and it brought a smile to his face. He couldn't have agreed more. And it was impossible for Severus to deny the simple truth in that moment – that he and Harry were soul mates. He already knew that he'd found everything he'd ever wanted in Harry – a friend, a lover, a companion, a true partner. Even still, this felt like something even deeper. Severus had really never understood what people meant when they spoke of finding their soul mate. Now he understood without question.

"I love you," they both said in unison. Harry chuckled and Severus smiled as they wound their bodies as close as they would allow.

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_Author's note: _Again readers, thank you for your patience! I'm in the middle of a move and starting a new job…and I can barely believe I got this chapter written at all. But here it is.

Thanks for all your reviews on the last chapter and I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks of this one. If people are still reading, I'm hoping to have the next chapter out soon.

Thanks always to my two outstanding betas: Ketsurui and Molvanian Queen-In-Exile.

Feedback is always appreciated.


	8. To do the unthinkable

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**PLEASE READ:**

First off, this is a very short chapter…

I _really_ abhor giving warnings, but since this is ffnet, I have to. Please be aware that the story begins to delve into some of the themes I warned for in the beginning. These include among others: **disturbing content**, **non-con/rape** (not explicit), **violence**, **mental illness** (treated respectfully).

Please do not read any further if you might be disturbed or offended by this content.

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**In Memory's Wake** by **CocoaSnape  
****Chapter 8:** To do the unthinkable

It happened three days later. Late Friday evening, a couple of hours after he had finished his dinner, Severus Snape was summoned to Voldemort's side.

It was an odd thing. Snape had spent the better part of the past few days preoccupied with the fact that the Dark Lord hadn't yet summoned him, worried that perhaps the Dark wizard had deduced that the events of four nights ago were all an elaborate charade that he had orchestrated. And yet, the very moment the Dark Mark had burned black on his arm, Snape couldn't shake the feeling of almost palpable dread at the prospect of Apparating to that monster's side.

Snape examined his surroundings at once, his mind taking in and processing each detail as he tried to determine the reason he'd been summoned. His 'Master' was seated on a raised throne, his posture casual, as he looked on at the assembly of about twenty Death Eaters. To the side, five unmasked men knelt – Malfoy, Avery, Dolohov, Wormtail and Macnair – the five that Snape had 'saved' from the Aurors a few nights before. They appeared cowed and Snape suspected at once that they had not had an easy week under the Dark Lord's mercy, or lack thereof.

A cold voice snapped Snape out of his thoughts. "Severus, our guest of honor."

"My Lord," Severus responded, quickly kneeling at the red-eyed wizard's feet and kissing the hem of his robe.

"Take off your mask and stand," Voldemort ordered.

Snape did as he was bid to with a swish of his wand and wondered what the hell was going on.

"No doubt you are wondering why I have summoned you here." Snape swallowed involuntarily. "I wanted to be sure you were… rewarded for your efforts some nights ago."

Despite being relieved that Dark Lord did not suspect his duplicity, Snape did not like where this was going, or the tone of that madman's voice. _Not this again_, he thought. _Not this again, please._

Voldemort's eyes locked on the five kneeling Death Eaters. "You owe Severus a great deal." He paused, before addressing one of his servants specifically. "Lucius, it appears that you, in particular, owe quite the apology… to both of us."

Although it wasn't a question, Malfoy knew better than not to answer. He raised his head without hesitation and replied flatly, "Yes, my Lord."

_Oh, they have had a horrid week_, Snape reflected. Malfoy's swift and deferential response confirmed it.

The Dark Lord spoke again, his voice casual as he asked, "Do you want him, Severus?"

The question caught Snape completely off-guard. He had not been expecting this. "No, my Lord," Snape said without delay, making his distaste at the suggestion evident on his face. It was not hard to do.

"Too old for you?" Voldemort asked meaningfully, his mouth stretching into something that could have once resembled a smile. "Lucius, you are to repay Severus for your accusations. One of your Gringotts accounts should do."

Malfoy's pale face gained a little color at that, but he only murmured, "As my Lord wishes."

"Now then," Voldemort continued with a mad gleam in his eye, "I have my own little gift for you – and I think you will like it very, very much."

"I'm sure I will, my Lord," Snape responded with a bow. Inside his stomach clenched. _Not this again._

"I do know how much you like the young ones…"

Snape stopped breathing. He tried, without success, to clear the lump in his throat. This was worse than he could have ever imagined. In a split second, Snape contemplated his options. Should he run? If he did, he would forfeit his role as spy instantly, and that would be a tremendous blow to the Order. But as his mind drifted to the unthinkable thing he surmised that that monster seated before him had in store for him, he could think of no other option. He couldn't do this – he wouldn't. Snape concentrated on Apparating, but before he could begin, he could feel the drain of his magic. There were anti-apparition wards up. Damn.

The options narrowed further – this or death.

Voldemort continued with perverse enthusiasm, his voice almost soft, "I was going to ask Macnair to bring me a young boy, but then, I thought of your fondness for Harry Potter, Severus. You do, after all, deserve much more than some anonymous boy."

Snape's stomach heaved and his body temperature felt as though it had instantly risen several degrees. _It couldn't be. _Snape moved his arm so that he could easily access his wand. His mind was racing. _It couldn't be._ _Harry was safe at Hogwarts._

He'd just left there – surely he would have known if the wards had been compromised. A thousand possibilities flew into his mind. Perhaps someone had lured Harry off the grounds. But Harry wouldn't be foolish enough to leave, let alone in the middle of night… unless someone had convinced Harry that he was in trouble. Snape forced himself to breathe. _Please, Merlin, don't let it be!_

A moment later, two Death Eaters led a very frightened looking Harry Potter in from the adjoining room. His glasses were missing and his torn clothes were not his own, but the face staring back at Severus Snape was, without a doubt, Harry's.

Despite the horror of the situation, Snape's body sighed with relief. He knew immediately that it wasn't Harry. Knew immediately it was a Muggle – there was no trace of magic in the individual standing before him except for the Polyjuice that was coursing through his veins.

"Are you not pleased?" Voldemort asked, anger edging in his voice. "Procuring these hairs was not easy, Severus."

"Of course, my Lord," Snape replied instinctively. "I was simply stunned. And now I am speechless… at your generosity, my Lord."

"Of course you are," Voldemort hissed maniacally.

"My Lord, I feel so undeserving of this," Snape began, in a desperate attempt to find a way out of this horror, even if it meant making the Dark Lord remember his failures. "After all, it was partially my fault that I did not get the information about the Order counter-attack sooner. Perhaps if I had been closer to Dumbledore—"

"How modest you are this evening," Voldemort interrupted sharply, adding in an icy voice matched only by his terrible visage, "It does not become you."

Snape bowed.

"Now then, I can sense how eager all of you are to watch Harry Potter's defilement. Isn't that so?" His Death Eaters were murmuring their assents when Voldemort finished, "But this is not your prize. I don't think any of you incompetents deserve to see Severus's art."

The Death Eaters began to grumble their protests, but Voldemort quelled them all as he shouted, "Out of my sight, all of you!"

A few moments later, the room was empty, save for Voldemort, Snape and 'Harry Potter.'

Snape thought he was going to be sick. He tugged at his collar in an attempt to get some more air, which was growing increasingly more difficult with every passing moment as the tightness in his chest mounted. He had been in many impossible spots before, and he was a master at remaining cool and detached under the most difficult of circumstances. But in this moment, the thought of what was to come overwhelmed his instincts. Albus had been right. He should have left. He should have stopped spying. Then he wouldn't be here, about to do the unthinkable. Who was this person? He had no idea. He mind was a whirlwind, and he realized that if he was to survive, he had to block out his thoughts and emotions straight away.

"It's just us and Harry Potter now."

Snape swallowed.

Voldemort's features were ruthless as he said, "I expect to be highly entertained. Do you understand me, Severus?"

"Yes, my Lord," Snape replied flatly. He knew. He knew what the Dark Lord wanted – screams, pain, blood, every unspeakable horror that could be imagined.

Snape stepped forward, his tall figure looming over the familiar face of the boy before him.

The Polyjuiced Muggle must have known what fate awaited him, because he dropped to his knees instantly in front of Snape and whimpered, "Please don't hurt me." There were tears leaking out of those bright green eyes as the Muggle pleaded in Harry's voice, "I'm begging you, please don't do this!"

In response, Snape let out a demonic laugh that Voldemort echoed with perverse glee.

Just before Snape adjusted his mental walls to Occlude all emotion, he begged Merlin to spare him from the hell he surely deserved for what he was about to do.

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_Author's note: _I know a lot of you saw this coming – well, perhaps not _this_ – but some version of a storm after the calm. I hope I've suitably shocked, but in a good way. I look forward to your thoughts.

And thank you all for your kind reviews on the last chapter.

Big hugs to my two outstanding betas: Ketsurui and Molvanian Queen-In-Exile.

Feedback is always appreciated.


	9. What does that make me

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake** by **CocoaSnape  
****Chapter 9: What does that make me**

"Something's wrong, Harry, isn't there?" Hermione asked. She'd been keeping a close eye on her best friend for the past hour, aware of his discomfited behavior. It was nearing midnight, but the Gryffindor common room was packed and in full swing celebrating their Quidditch victory a few days prior that had automatically advanced them to the finals.

"No, nothing," Harry answered mechanically. He'd not felt very well for the past couple of hours. At first he'd assumed it was the punch, which Seamus and Dean had spiked with some imitation version of Firewhisky they'd bought at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. But now, as his ruby amulet grew warm on his chest, Harry had the sudden feeling that his discomfort had something to do with Severus.

"Listen, 'Mione, I've got to go. Tell Ron I wasn't feeling well."

In his anxiousness to see if Severus was alright, Harry nearly sprinted to the dungeons. As Harry spoke the password and moved to enter the door, he bumped into a solid form. Taking a step back, he was surprised to find the Headmaster staring back at him.

"Oh! Hello, Professor."

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said in a distant voice.

Harry could tell at once that something wasn't right. Dumbledore looked unwell and his mind was clearly elsewhere.

"Are you feeling okay, sir?"

"Yes, of course," the elder wizard replied without returning Harry's gaze. Dumbledore was not in the least bit surprised to see Harry here. But he also wanted to avoid what he knew would be a difficult conversation.

Dumbledore had come to see Severus immediately after he'd returned from Voldemort's side. Severus had told him the horrible truth of what happened almost immediately, and in such dispassionate a tone that was nothing less than unnerving. Dumbledore hadn't said much afterwards, knowing all too well that Severus wasn't interested or really able to hear what he had to say in that moment. He did demand that Severus take some Dreamless Sleep Draught, and the younger wizard had reluctantly consented. Before Severus swallowed down the vial, Dumbledore had said, 'There was nothing else you could have done, Severus. I hope you know that.' Severus deliberately avoided Dumbledore's gaze.

As Dumbledore exited the dungeon quarters, he thought about the look of utter despair on Severus's face before he'd fallen asleep. It was the first hint of emotion the man had shown since Dumbledore had walked into that room. And it left him with a profound sadness and one question clouding his mind; how in the world was Severus going to cope with this?

Harry was carefully studying the expression on the Headmaster's face. It was hard to place, but if Harry had to guess, it almost looked like Dumbledore was in pain.

"Is it Severus, sir? Is he alright?" Harry demanded.

Dumbledore weighed this question a moment before replying tactfully, "He's not injured." That wasn't precisely a lie. "He's just returned from a meeting."

"Oh, that must have been why," Harry said as he clenched the amulet Severus had given him. Harry relaxed. He knew being summoned was an intense strain for Severus – it did not surprise him that he would have been able to feel that.

Harry took a step forward into Severus's quarters, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"He's asleep, Harry."

"Asleep?" Harry asked in surprise.

"He took Dreamless just before I left."

"Oh. That's alright. Goodnight, Professor." Harry continued towards the door.

"You're planning on staying with Severus tonight?" Dumbledore asked hesitantly. "Wouldn't it be better if you returned to Gryffindor tower?"

Harry was somewhat taken aback by Dumbledore's questions, but assumed that the Headmaster was concerned about his absence being conspicuous in Gryffindor tower. Harry reassured him, "I just want to say goodnight."

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Alright then. Goodnight, Harry." With evident reluctance, Dumbledore turned and left.

A minute later, Harry was giving his sleeping lover a kiss on the cheek, relieved to see that Severus appeared unharmed. He curled up behind Severus and wrapped his arms around him, unaware of the turmoil that was his partner's mind. Harry had intended to go back to Gryffindor tower, as he'd told Dumbledore he would, but relaxing by Severus's side, Harry was soon fast asleep.

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Harry woke to find a note on the pillow opposite his.

'_I'm in a meeting with the Headmaster this morning. I'll be in the lab all weekend. See you Monday. Love, Severus.'_

The note was a bit more to the point than Harry was used to, but Severus was likely in a hurry. Harry dressed quickly. He had a busy weekend ahead of him: first Quidditch practice and then Hogsmeade today. He didn't even want to think about the two scrolls he had to write on Sunday for Charms.

A voice from the Floo interrupted his thoughts. It was the Headmaster.

"Hello, Harry. I must confess I'm a bit surprised to find you here. Is Severus there by any chance?"

"He's not with you, sir?" Harry asked. "He left a note saying he's meeting with you."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore began carefully. "He must be on his way up."

Dumbledore had no illusions that Severus was actually coming to meet with him. He knew that Severus's note to Harry had been a lie. And although he had no idea where Severus had gone to in this moment, he had a good idea of when he'd turn up.

And so an hour and a half later, when Dumbledore could see Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team flying about the pitch, he made his way down to the dungeons. Just as he had expected, Severus was there and reluctantly let the elder wizard in.

"How are you, my boy?"

"I'm fine, Albus," Snape replied flatly.

Dumbledore paused a moment, deep in thought.

"I ran into Harry last night." At the mention of the young man's name, Snape visibly paled. "I tried to suggest he stay in the tower, but I didn't think it my place to demand it."

Severus swallowed.

"You disappeared rather suddenly this morning," Dumbledore said, although the observation came out much more like a question.

"I wasn't expecting him, that's all." That was an understatement. When he'd woken to find Harry beside him, he'd nearly leapt from the bed. By some miracle he'd managed to get out of the room without waking Harry.

"Severus, how are you holding up really?"

"I already told you," Snape said, now sounding thoroughly annoyed, "I'm fine."

Dumbledore sighed. Without employing Legilimency, he couldn't be sure of Severus's state of mind. What he could tell was that Severus's mental walls appeared stable, which was reassuring. But he knew that Severus had to be suffering, and it upset him to think that after the difficulties he'd been through earlier in the year, his friend was once again resuming his pattern of denying his anguish. "Severus, I wish you wouldn't do this again."

"For Merlin's sake," Snape sighed, frustrated with direction Dumbledore was taking this conversation.

"Severus, don't pretend that—"

Unwilling to let Dumbledore go any further, Snape interrupted with an angry outburst that verged on condescension. "Don't you get it, Albus? I'm not pretending." Snape snorted softly as though he were amusing himself. "And wouldn't that be a big surprise? If I told you I was really all right. If I told you it didn't bother me nearly as much as you think."

Dumbledore stared at Severus for a long moment before replying, "I don't believe that."

"Well believe it," Snape asserted resolutely. "You're surprised aren't you, Albus? Clearly you were expecting to find me in a state of distress over this. Well as you can see, I'm not." Snape paused thoughtfully and then added, "What does that make me I wonder?"

Dumbledore's face changed then, and the look of concern intensified. "I think we should discuss this."

"I really don't have the time to sit here and have you try to convince me that I'm really upset about this but that don't have the faintest idea. I have a lot of work to do."

"Later then."

"If that will finally convince you that I'm not some basket case, then fine," Snape responded indifferently. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Albus…"

Snape held the door open for the elder wizard, who stepped out a few moments later. As the door to his quarters closed, and Snape felt his wards activate, he immediately fell to his knees and began to hyperventilate. He struggled to catch his breath and shake the ill feeling from his head. He felt like someone had ripped out his stomach.

As his breathing returned to normal, he questioned his motives for just playing that game with Dumbledore; what exactly had he been trying to accomplish in that attempt to convince Albus that he was not affected by the events of last night?

He wondered what Albus thought of him now.

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Just after nine o'clock Sunday night, the Headmaster was knocking on Severus's door for the third time in the last 36 hours. The previous two instances, Severus had not answered, but this time, Dumbledore wasn't going to be turned away. He'd been intensely worried about Severus, but had given him the privacy he desired.

Dumbledore understood Severus's need to be alone and so he had respected his friend's request. But now he needed to be sure that Severus was alright, all things considered. He emitted a frustrated sigh when he realized that Severus would not be permitting him entry yet again, and he dismantled the wards to let himself in.

Dumbledore was taken aback to find that Severus's normally pristine quarters were anything but. There were papers scattered about the room everywhere, essays on the desk half-marked in red, old potions scrolls on the sofa half-open, and books strewn on the floor. There were two cauldrons on the low workbench in the corner, but the flames under both had been extinguished. From the looks of it, it appeared that Severus had been moving from task to task, trying, without success it seemed, to occupy his mind.

One look at Severus confirmed Dumbledore's suspicions. His face was pale, his hair unkempt and his clothing uncharacteristically disheveled. The skin on his hands was red, almost raw, and Dumbledore recognized it at once as a rash from the Scourgify charm which had been used too many times. He was trembling, a side effect from Dreamless Sleep having been consumed in high dosage and frequency.

Dumbledore didn't need to ask the question – the answer was beyond obvious. But he asked it, because he needed to know how Severus would answer. "How are you, Severus?"

"How do you think?" Severus replied, his eyes wide and his expression deranged. "I'm just splendid." The sarcasm was impossible to miss.

Despite Severus's state, Dumbledore found Severus's answer a reassuring sign. Yesterday, Severus had been boldly asserting that what had happened didn't trouble him in the slightest.

"Well, at least you've finally given up convincing me you're evil."

Snape glared at the elder wizard, his eyes filled with skepticism.

But Dumbledore refuted the thought he knew was in Severus's head. "Don't take my silence yesterday as having believed you."

Snape tried to interrupt, but Dumbledore did not let him. "I was trying to determine why you were so insistent on convincing me that you felt nothing about what happened."

Snape snorted and mocked, "And I'm sure you have your theories."

"A few," Dumbledore agreed, but offered none.

Snape walked over to his desk and poured himself a drink. He took a swig and asked sharply, "Did they find the body?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what I mean!" Snape bit out. "The muggle – did they find him, her?"

For a second, Dumbledore was tempted to lie, but thought better of it. "Yes."

"And?" Snape snapped impatiently. When the Headmaster did not reply at once, he demanded irately, "Just tell me."

"There's not much to tell, Severus. He was a 30-something-year-old muggle. He didn't have any identification, but it seems that he was chosen at random."

Snape remained silent.

"Was there something more you wanted to know?" Dumbledore inquired kindly.

Snape shook his head.

Dumbledore took a deep breath and began gently, "Severus, I know you know this – or at least you should – but I think it bears reminding you that we wouldn't be having this conversation right now if you had refused Voldemort. He would have killed you."

Snape looked sharply away, and his face screwed up in pain.

"You disagree?" Dumbledore asked.

It took the dark-haired man a long moment to reply. "Of course he would have killed me, but…"

A few moments later, Dumbledore gently prodded Snape to continue, "But?"

"Nothing." Snape couldn't bring himself to say that he might have been better off if the Dark Lord had. Instead, he gulped the remainder of the amber liquid in his glass.

A long minute passed between the two men before Dumbledore asked, "Have you eaten anything, Severus?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Perhaps I should rephrase. Have you eaten anything today?"

"I don't know." He really had no idea if he'd eaten or not.

Severus's sudden meek attitude (not to mention his inability to recollect whether he'd eaten) heightened Dumbledore's concern.

"I think perhaps someone should stay with you. Will you let me do that?" Dumbledore suggested.

"No, I need to be alone." There was no masking the despondency of the words.

"Severus—"

"Damn it, Albus!" Snape snapped suddenly. "I'm taking care of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

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When Monday morning arrived, Severus Snape was exhausted and full of panic. He hadn't slept very well at all, despite having taken Dreamless Sleep. The nightmares were already growing too strong for the potion, his body becoming accustomed to the potion. And on top of it all, he knew he'd have to see Harry today.

An hour later, as the seventh year Gryffindors filed into the classroom, Harry noticed at once that Severus did not look up. That was the first indication that something wasn't right. Normally, after a weekend spent apart, Severus would always make eye contact, sometimes communicating a quick 'I love you' via Legilimency, or sometimes just giving a long enough glance to signify the same sentiment.

As Harry took his seat, he was surprised by Severus's appearance. His normally pristine robes were not pressed; they were so wrinkled in fact, it almost seemed that Severus might have slept in them. His hair appeared greasy and did not look as though it had been combed. There were dark circles under his lover's eyes and his face was unusually pale.

Harry attempted to get Severus's attention several times during the class, even going so far as picking a fight with Malfoy, but to no avail. Severus did not meet his gaze once and dismissed the class nearly twenty minutes early. Harry tried to stay after, but Severus immediately retired to his private office.

That evening, after the day's classes had finally come to an end, Harry rushed through dinner and headed for the dungeons. He was more than a little surprised to see a familiar face exiting Severus's quarters. It left him first with a feeling of déjà vu, and then an understanding that something was wrong.

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said in greeting.

"Professor, is Severus alright?"

Dumbledore paused for a moment before replying, "He's sleeping now."

"Sleeping?" Harry asked. "Dreamless again?" At Dumbledore's subtle nod, Harry continued, "What the hell is going on?" It was only just after seven p.m. – a ridiculous hour for a night owl like Severus to be in bed.

Dumbledore sighed. He looked and sounded exhausted.

"Did Voldemort…" Harry asked hesitantly, "did he… like before?"

Dumbledore considered the question carefully. What could he say without compromising Severus's privacy? And yet, this was Harry, who deserved at least some explanation, some reassurance about Severus's condition. Tentatively, the elder wizard answered, "In a way, yes," aware that this answer didn't give Harry a clue of how serious this situation was.

Harry considered what Dumbledore was telling him. He'd really been hoping there was another explanation for Severus's appearance and behavior in today's class. Unfortunately, it was not the case. Harry knew this was not good news, but he was reassured by the fact that they'd been through this before.

Harry had no idea that this was nothing like before.

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Snape woke early, relieved to find that he was alone. But that momentary calm promptly dissipated when he remembered that he had a class to teach in a few hours – not just any class, the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins. The very thought caused his stomach to turn and his skull to pound. Clutching his head, Snape staggered to the bathroom, trying to control his heaving stomach, willing himself not to vomit.

But as Harry's face swam in his mind, and his memories overwhelmed him, he didn't know how he would face the day ahead.

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The Potions class was eerily quiet. Professor Snape was 30 minutes late. And to say that was out of the ordinary would be the understatement of the century. At first, the students had been chatting and goofing off as usual. But once it became apparent that their Professor was going to be more than a couple of minutes tardy, they'd all gone abruptly quiet. Perhaps it had something to do with Parvati whispering that he was probably hiding somewhere in the room observing their behavior.

Harry was growing increasingly anxious with each passing minute. Unable to wait any longer without doing something, he scribbled a quick note to Dumbledore and used a paper airplane charm to deliver it to the Headmaster. Although the charm would have delivered the note almost immediately, it took about 20 minutes for Dumbledore to arrive.

The Headmaster was his usual cheerful eccentric self as he entered the classroom. "Ah, I am so sorry to be late. Professor Snape informed me this morning that he has the flu and he asked me to fill in for him. But as it turns out, this is my usual morning for organizing my sock drawer by color. I confess my deliberations about which was lighter, lavender or mauve, caused me to completely forget that class had started."

"He's lying," Hermione whispered to Harry.

"I know."

"Now then," Dumbledore continued, "Professor Snape has informed me that he has assigned you each a research project for the rest of the year. And he would like each of you to begin working on your proposals in the library."

As everyone headed for the library, Harry approached Dumbledore.

"Professor—"

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted, "come and see me in my office later today. No need to fret about anything, my boy." And with that, Dumbledore exited the room through the back door that led to Severus's office and quarters.

When Dumbledore had received Harry's note just twenty or so minutes ago, he'd Flooed directly to Severus's quarters. He had never known Severus to be late for a class without informing him in advance, and he knew the reason would not be as innocent as Severus having accidentally overslept. But he was not prepared to find Severus as he did – lying on the stone floor in his living room, drunk and unconscious.

Dumbledore had checked his vitals and was alarmed by his friend's shallow respiration and cold clammy skin. With a flourish of his wand, he'd evacuated the excess ethanol from Severus's body. Snape's eyes had flown open, and he began to retch. Dumbledore summoned an anti-emetic potion which the ill man managed to down before Dumbledore helped him over to the sofa.

"Merlin, Severus, you gave me quite a scare. Is this what you meant when you told me you were taking care of it? You might have killed yourself."

"Stop exaggerating, Albus. I was drunk, that's all."

"You were lying on the floor unconscious."

"I was asleep."

"It's half past nine and your class is wondering where you are."

Snape had said nothing in reply which heightened Dumbledore's concern even further. He had offered no apology, no excuse, and worst of all, he didn't offer to go attend to his waiting class. Instead, Snape stared intently at the fire Dumbledore had just lit.

"I'm going to take care of your class. Will you be alright for a few minutes?"

Snape gave a small nod and continued staring at the hearth.

As Dumbledore stepped back inside Severus's quarters, having just sent his class to the library, he noticed that Severus had not moved. Dumbledore took a seat on the sofa beside him.

The two sat in silence for a long minute before Snape finally whispered, "I just couldn't…"

When Severus didn't finish, Dumbledore continued, "You couldn't see Harry?"

Snape said nothing, but the look on his face was answer enough. "I'll make it to my next class, Albus."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I told them you have the flu. You should take a couple of days to rest."

Snape nodded. Normally he would have refused any suggestion of time away from his duties, but now, all he felt was relief. This morning, the very idea of having to be in the same room with Harry had caused him to down an entire bottle of scotch without a thought to the consequences.

Dumbledore began gently, "Severus, I think I should stay with you, at least for a day or two."

"No, Albus, please… I just need to be left alone."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"I'll stop drinking," Snape offered.

"Severus, that will not solve the larger problem. I'm going to stay with you."

"I need to be alone, damn it!" Snape snapped. "I can't…" He searched for the words, but they failed him. He was slowly falling apart right in front of Albus, and he couldn't quite believe it or imagine what the elder wizard must be thinking. "I just _have_ to be alone," Snape pleaded, desperation edged in his voice. "Can't you understand that?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Promise me you won't do anything else to hurt yourself."

"Alright, but I need… I need you to do something for me."

"In return for you not harming yourself?" Dumbledore asked in astonishment. "If you're trying to inspire my confidence, my boy, you're not succeeding."  
"Stop being so dramatic, Albus. I'm not going to kill myself if that's what you're implying."

"Promise me."

"Fine, fine," Snape replied dismissively.

"I need to hear you say it, Severus."

"For Merlin's sake," Snape sighed. "I won't kill myself, alright? Now will you do me that favor?"

"You know I'll do anything for you, Severus."

"Thank you, Albus," Snape replied in relief. He leaned forward and made direct eye contact with Dumbledore before saying, "I need you to speak with Harry for me. Tell him I can't see him anymore… at least for a while. I can't have him keep trying to see me after class or coming by here."

Dumbledore stared at his friend in wide eyed astonishment. "You're asking _me_ to break off your relationship with Harry?"

"Not break off, just ask him to give me some space for a while." When Dumbledore did not reply, Snape added, "Please, Albus. I can't see him."

Dumbledore sighed and then said, "I'll do it on one condition."

"Anything," Snape responded instantly, relieved that Albus was going to take this burden from him. He hadn't been expecting Albus to agree so easily.

"I want you to seek professional help."

Dumbledore could see the anger erupt in Severus's gaze.

"You really are a piece of work, aren't you?" Snape shouted. "I ask one simple thing of you and you turn it into a life debt of some sort."

"Severus, I'm trying to help…"

"Get out, Albus. Do this for me or not. Just get out!"

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Harry Potter was in Dumbledore's office his first free period of the day.

"I wasn't expecting you so soon, Harry."

"Well, I went and tried to see Severus."

"Oh?"

"But the wards wouldn't let me in for some reason. And the portrait said I should take it up with you."

"I see." Dumbledore realized that Severus had put him in the middle – leaving him little choice but to speak with Harry.

"Is Severus very sick, sir?"

What a loaded question this was. In Dumbledore's opinion, Severus was anything but well. But how to answer? "He doesn't have the flu, Harry."

"Oh. What?" Harry asked in confusion.

"He wasn't feeling well enough to teach this morning. I suggested he take tomorrow off as well."

Harry digested the Headmaster's words. Slowly, he asked, "This has to do with Voldemort, doesn't it? With what happened at the meeting?"

"Yes, Harry, it does," Dumbledore replied sadly.

Harry slumped down in the chair. He felt suddenly exhausted and overwhelmed with concern for his partner. "I haven't seen him since then, awake at least. Can I see him this evening, do you think?"

Dumbledore began kindly, "Harry, I think perhaps you should consider giving Severus some time and space alone to reflect. I believe that that would be the best thing for him right now."

"What? But why?"

The answer to his question was evident in the next moment. Harry could see Dumbledore fidgeting ever so slightly in his chair. Dumbledore never fidgeted, and yet the Headmaster's discomfort was palpable.

"This is Severus's idea, isn't it?" Harry asked, afraid of the answer.

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "He just needs some time to work through some things, my boy."

"And he doesn't want to see me," Harry replied, the resentment obvious in his voice.

"That's not it at all."

"Then what is it?"

Dumbledore felt as though he was walking a tightrope. What exactly did Severus expect him to say? He couldn't convince Harry without telling the truth, and yet he had to be discreet so not to compromise Severus's confidence. "He's going through a very difficult time right now," Dumbledore said delicately, wishing that those words weren't a gross underestimation of Severus's pain.

A moment before, Harry was ready to lash out in anger. But he suddenly found himself terrified by the look on the Headmaster's face. Something was very wrong.

"But he's going to be okay though, right?"

Dumbledore swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm sure Severus will be fine," he replied, hoping that just by saying it, he could will it so.

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_Author's note: _First off, I want to thank everyone for their incredibly kind reviews for the last chapter and for the overwhelming response. I confess I was a bit worried that I might scare and or scar some of you. And so I do appreciate your taking the time to comment and for your support. Thank you. And I look forward to your comments on this chapter as well.

In the next chapter, Snape is getting worse and worse with each passing hour. Dumbledore tries to intervene and help him. And after not speaking with each other for 6 days, Harry and Severus finally meet face to face.

And, as always, to my two incredible betas, Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui, big hugs of thanks for their time and devotion to this story. xx

Feedback is always appreciated.


	10. Darker and darker still

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**PLEASE READ:**

I feel it necessary to remind everyone that this story deals with sensitive themes going forward and throughout the story. I don't want to warn for these things before every chapter because a) it's annoying and b) it detracts from the chapter's impact.

So let me remind everyone of the themes of my story because apparently some are still not clear: Slash content, potentially disturbing content (such as references to pedophilia amongst other things), non-con/rape (not excessively graphic), violence, and mental illness/mental instability (this includes suicidal thoughts, self-harm, and all that not so nice stuff).

Please DO NOT read any further if you may be offended or tempted to flame.

Thank you.

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**In Memory's Wake** by **CocoaSnape  
****Chapter 10: D****arker and darker still**

The Dark Lord was next to him, his dank, putrid breath against his ear as he whispered instructions, each more gruesome than the next. The last request rang in his ears, _'Make him bleed, Severus.'_

The boy was whimpering below him, bright green eyes leaking tears as he moved closer to comply with the request.

Snape awoke with a scream. His body was heaving and he struggled to control his breathing. He stumbled towards his desk, his legs trembling so forcefully he had to crawl for part of the way. Reaching inside the top drawer, he retrieved his potions box. Searching through it frantically, he found the correct vial and downed it without preamble. Had anyone else done such a thing, he would have balked. These were powerful, addictive sleeping and anti-anxiety draughts that needed to be taken in small measured doses. But as his heartbeat began to slow and his mind began to clear, Snape welcomed the momentary relief without apology.

His liberal usage of potions over the past few days was causing him to build up a tolerance to many of them, and where once he might have worried about such things, he found he didn't give a second thought to the consequences. In his mind, he heard what Albus would say to him if he were standing there now, the words, 'post-traumatic stress disorder,' 'chronic,' and 'therapy,' ringing in his brain. How had he gotten to this place?

Oddly, he could barely remember what it felt like to be happy. He'd been deliriously happy only a week ago, and had been for the two months he and Harry had been together. Now, he was the further thing from it.

It was as though a light switch had been turned on – or perhaps off – in his brain. All the happiness was gone, and in its wake, he had returned to that terrible place he'd resided in months ago. Except far worse; things seemed to be getting darker and darker still with every passing moment. He felt himself losing everything, losing _himself_ to this madness.

Over the past few days, whenever he'd laid eyes upon something in his quarters that reminded him of Harry, he'd reacted irrationally. Two days ago, when he'd found Harry's robe, he'd hid it out of sight behind his dresser. Last night, although he'd taken far too much Dreamless Sleep, he'd not been able to sleep in his own bed. Now, he could barely go into the bedroom – memories of him and Harry together there would flood him and leave him gasping on the floor. It had gotten to the point where he only ventured there to use the bathroom.

This morning, while trying to steal some sleep on the sofa, the wool rug in front of the hearth caught his eye. He and Harry had made love there many times. The thought caused his chest to tighten and he'd broken out into a cold sweat, a panic attack descending on him without warning. And so he'd rolled up the rug with a wave of his wand and levitated it to his corner closet, out of sight.

But it didn't matter how many of Harry's things he'd hidden, his traitorous mind kept bringing those horrible memories to the surface. He was using all his strength to hold his mental wards, but he was slowly becoming convinced that he was losing his mind – if one could know such a thing, that is. He kept re-experiencing that dreadful night – in dreams and flashbacks – and even though he knew intellectually that he wasn't in that place anymore, he couldn't rationalize his way to that conclusion. His mind made it real, and every moment of it was agony.

Snape really had thought things would be getting better by now, that the time away from Harry would slowly begin to set his mind straight. But the truth of the matter was, he was only getting worse. He'd already missed two days of classes on the pretext of being ill with the flu. And where that once might have troubled him, he found he didn't care in the least.

He was exhausted from the lack of sleep and the last few nights had been nothing short of torment, lying awake for hours in the darkness, his mind conjuring one disturbing memory after another. Where once these moments of distress were brief and infrequent, it was now the moments of clarity that were becoming increasingly rare. He was lucky to find enough of them so he could sometimes eat and maybe even catch some fitful minutes of sleep.

Nothing made sense to him anymore. All of the questions he'd been struggling with a few months ago were resurfacing, with greater intensity and urgency. Was he going to get through this? Could he be around Harry without losing his mind? Would he ever be able to? And ringing in his brain, the main question: why, oh why had he subjected Harry to his life? How could he have been so heartless, so cruel to the one person he loved above all others?

A chime sounded and broke Snape from his reverie. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was noon and remembered that Dumbledore had asked him up for lunch. Somehow he managed to get dressed, half surprised at his desire to go. These days, it was these distractions, however miniscule, that delivered those precious moments of lucidity.

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Dumbledore knew his friend needed help, and soon at that. The mere suggestion the other day that Severus should seek the advice of a therapist had caused the younger wizard to erupt in anger and usher him out of the room. Although Severus had dismissed the idea out of hand, it was needless to say that Dumbledore had not been persuaded.

In fact, he'd spent much of the last day carefully considering this problem. There were a few trained specialists on staff at St. Mungo's, but seeing one would require going through official channels. That would be too public and complicated, if not impossible, to conceal.

The other matter, of course, was confidentiality. Could any of them be trusted absolutely – either by oath or by charm? The Headmaster highly doubted it. He knew that without a safe and secure space, Severus would never agree to speak with anyone.

A knock on the door interrupted Dumbledore's thoughts, and a moment later, the subject of them entered. Dumbledore was glad to see that Severus had come as he'd promised to, but was distressed to see the dark circles under his friend's eyes.

"How are you, Severus?"

Snape ignored the question, asking one of his own instead. "Did you speak with…" Snape paused, unable or unwilling to finish.

"Harry?" Dumbledore finished. "Yes, I spoke with him yesterday morning. Although I can't say I had much choice in the matter since you locked him out of your wards."

"Thank you, Albus."

Dumbledore could discern the relief on Severus's face; evidently he hadn't been sure that he was going to grant him this favor. Thinking that now was perhaps the best time to press his advantage, Dumbledore began lightly, "I asked you here, Severus, because I wanted to continue our discussion."

"Concerning?"

"Concerning you speaking with someone."

Dumbledore could see Severus's expression chill at once. "What is there left to talk about? I thought I made it clear that it's ridiculous and there's no need," Snape said flatly.

"No need?" Dumbledore asked in disbelief. "I found you yesterday morning having nearly drunk yourself to death."

"Stop being so dramatic, Albus. I had a few glasses of scotch and fell asleep."

"You think I'm being dramatic?" Dumbledore paused thoughtfully for a moment, then added, "Yesterday, when I suggested you seek help, you all but threw me out of your quarters. Why do you think that is?"

"It's not a complicated question, Albus," Snape replied mildly. "I don't want to see anyone. I don't need to."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"I don't think anyone can help me."

_Ah_, Dumbledore thought, _a rare moment of honesty_. Or perhaps it had just been an accidental admission, but it was progress nevertheless.

"It wouldn't hurt to try, Severus." Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair and suggested gently, "I think you are not doing as well as you say you are, my boy." He could see Severus preparing to interrupt, so he put up his hand. "Just listen for a moment. I can sense… and no, Severus, not by Legilimency, but I can sense that you are rapidly retreating back to that place you were in before the Holidays."

Snape snorted at that, doing his best to convey his skepticism. But the truth was, he knew he was not only in that place, he was beyond it in more ways than one. The thought prompted him to re-intensify his mental walls. The last thing he needed now was for Albus to deduce how fragile his state of mind was.

"Severus, it seems to me that you're relapsing."

"You make it sound like I have a disease," Snape mocked.

"It is a disease; make no mistake about it. And at the moment you're medicating it with alcohol, and from the look of your pupils, an assortment of potions as well."

Snape studied the floor.

"Severus, given all you've been through, I am very concerned you may be in danger of a psychotic break." Severus's head snapped up sharply at that statement, and he studied the elder wizard with something akin to shock. Dumbledore continued softly, "You've suffered more than anyone should, Severus, and I am very worried for you and what might happen to you if you don't get some help. And so I'm taking every measure in my power to bring you that help whether you want it or not."

Dumbledore diverted his gaze to the door of his private study. It didn't take long for Snape to understand.

"You have someone in there?"

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed, nodding slightly.

"Now?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"Damn you, Albus. What did you tell him?" he asked, anger edging into his voice.

"I didn't tell her anything."

Dumbledore was aware that Severus was about ready to explode. He tried to mitigate Severus's outrage as best he could. "Please believe me, Severus, I said not a single word about your situation, just that you were a close friend who needed to see someone about an important matter. That's all."

"I can't believe this!" Snape snapped. "I can't believe you."

"I've already cast a secrecy charm on her. Once you shake hands, it will be binding. Everything you say will be completely confidential."

"Spells can be broken," Snape asserted.

"This is as secure a spell as I can manage."

Snape said nothing to that. If Dumbledore thought the spell was secure, it probably was. He tried a different tact. "Who the hell is this quack?"

"Her name is Felicia and she's a skilled therapist. She was on staff at St. Mungo's a few years ago. She has her own private practice now."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"She's my cousin Victor's fiancé – that's how I got her here on such short notice."

"So you two are friends?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"More like acquaintances. And in case you're wondering," Dumbledore added, well aware of what Severus's next argument was going to be, "the secrecy charm extends to me as well."

"As if you can't break your own charm," Snape accused.

"Severus, are you telling me that the remote possibility of me learning about your conversation is the real reason for your hesitation?"

Silence.

"I've been told she's very good." A long pause. "Please, Severus, do this for me. I'll wait for you here."

Dumbledore was more than a little bit shocked that Severus assented to speaking with Felicia without much more argument – he'd been sure that he was in for a long battle. He'd been waiting in the sitting room for nearly an hour now, filled with nervous anticipation and curiosity about Severus's conversation. He'd told Severus the truth about not being able to get any details from Felicia, but he could at the very least express his concerns about Severus to her and perhaps get a sense about how their conversation generally went.

Apparently that wouldn't happen, however, as at that moment Felicia stormed out of the study, muttering something Dumbledore was sure was a curse under her breath. She grabbed her coat and headed for the Floo.

"Felicia, is everything alright?"

"No it is not, Albus. I really must be going."

"Things didn't go so well I take it?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Felicia, will you please reconsider leaving? I can offer you―"

The tall witch interrupted, "I came only as a favor to you, Albus – you've always been very kind to me, but I cannot come back. I can't tell you what he said, of course, but what I can tell you is that if you paid me my weight in galleons, it would not be worth putting up with his debasing contemptuous shit."

Dumbledore's eyes bulged, completely taken aback by her harsh words. "I understand Severus can be difficult, insensitive even, but if you could put aside those feelings for the―"

"Give me some credit, Albus," she interrupted. "I spent over an hour with him. His personality I can tolerate, or at least try to, but not him wasting my time." At Dumbledore's questioning glance, she continued, "I can't tell you specifics of course, but he spent the past hour spinning a lie about his reason for seeing me."

"So he told you nothing?"

"He told me plenty. And be glad you put up that secrecy charm; you don't want to know the cockamamie story he told me."

Dumbledore was dismayed. He had really hoped Felicia might help Severus. "Will you come back?"

"There's no point, Albus. I can tell you that he's already made up his mind that I'm the last person on earth he'd ever speak candidly with."

"I see. Perhaps someone else then?"

"A long shot at best," Felicia replied. "He has no interest in therapy whatsoever, Albus. I wish you luck."

After Felicia vanished in the Floo, Dumbledore entered his private study to find a very smug Severus Snape sitting comfortably behind his desk. He looked more like himself than he had in days.

"What on earth did you say to her?" Dumbledore asked, with more curiosity than vexation.

"Quite a bit, but I don't think you really want to know."

"Perhaps I can talk to Victor and convince her to come back."

"Hmm, I highly doubt that. I don't think she'll want to see you again… not after I told her about all those sexual fantasies you've been harboring for her."

Dumbledore paled slightly. "Tell me you didn't."

Snape was really in his element now. He couldn't remember the last time his mind had had something so innocuous to focus on. He held onto it as a small child would their blanket. "Think of how your cousin will feel when he finds out that that's why you've been so 'kind' to his fiancée. Poor Victor," Snape mocked.

Dumbledore took a seat, exhaled deeply and asked, "Are you trying to make me angry, Severus?"

"Is it working?" Snape asked with a smirk.

"Just tell me, did you really tell Felicia that I was attracted to her, or are you just making that up?"

"No, I told her you lusted after her… and with vivid detail."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and studied his friend for a moment before asking with complete calm, "And why did you do that?"

"Why not?"

"Do you really think she believed you?"

"She stormed out of here, didn't she?"

"I envision you said a great many insensitive things to her. I can't even imagine the extent of them, to be honest."

"Yes, but I think this one rather hit home," Severus said.

"If she did by some chance believe you, Severus, I imagine Victor would set her right immediately. Tell me, what is it you're really trying to accomplish here, besides sabotaging your therapy?"

Dumbledore could see that Severus was rapidly losing interest in speaking with him. And it became apparent that he'd been hoping to pick a fight with Dumbledore about this, to prompt some form angry reaction regarding his comments to Felicia. An altercation of any kind would give him focus, focus on something other than the disaster that was his mind. Severus was now staring intently at the floor.

"What is it, Severus?"

No response.

"Talk to me… what are you thinking, my boy?"

"I've had enough of this. Goodnight." Snape was down the stairs and out of the Headmaster's quarters in a flash.

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh, sunk deeper in his chair and summoned a glass and a bottle of brandy.

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Snape couldn't quite remember the last time he'd felt so in control of his mind, so able to focus on something other than his deteriorating mental state than he had in that meeting with that woman. But the answer was a simple one. One week ago he'd been that well. Before.

And now, just a few hours after he'd met with Felicia in Dumbledore's office, he found himself half-drunk and lying on the bare stone floor in front of the hearth. The unexpected meeting had given him purpose and focus, if only for a limited amount of time. He'd been incensed with Albus's covert effort to involve him with such a person; so much so that he'd been determined to make sure the elder wizard didn't try such a tactic again. Perhaps he'd gone a bit overboard, but he felt certain that the message was delivered with explicit clarity. He didn't want to see anyone or talk to them about what was going on. In fact, what he wanted above all else, was for everyone to just go away and leave him alone.

Staring at the fire the elves had lit for him against his instructions, Snape's mind began to race and his frenzied thoughts crept to the surface. He'd had two days off from teaching. Dumbledore expected him back to work tomorrow – how on earth was he going to do that?

How many more days could he pretend to have the flu, he wondered. Two more perhaps; that would at least get him to the weekend. And then what? He knew he had a very thin grip on sanity as it was, and stepping into that classroom would only cause him to let go.

The thought caused Harry's image to float into the forefront of his mind. For not the first time that evening, the resulting onslaught of other, much darker images followed.

_The Dark Lord's sick laughter._

The flashbacks had been growing steadily worse, invading his mind like never before, every second seemingly lasting for an eternity. He was completely exhausted, mentally and physically, yet his mind would not grant him the respite he needed to rest.

_Tears streaming down that all too familiar face._

He almost started to cry then himself, whether it was from that horrible mental image, his exhaustion, or lack of control over himself, he did not know. His mind had betrayed him, dredging up the awful moments of that night one after another, not letting him forget for a moment. Snape summoned another bottle of Scotch and poured himself a refill.

'_I'm begging you, please don't do this.'_

Why had he rejected Dumbledore's help? Because he resented the offer? In part. Because,as he had said, he didn't think anyone could help him? In part. But the best answer was that he didn't want help. Perhaps part of him wanted to lose himself to insanity. After all, given what he'd done, did he deserve anything else?

_The Dark Lord's nostrils flaring with excitement as he stepped off his throne, moving swiftly toward the figure trembling at his feet._

Recognizing that he was hyperventilating, Snape downed the amber liquid in his glass with a single gulp. Angry at his weakness, he slammed the glass down on the floor, causing the crystal to shatter into tiny pieces in his hand. The pain was sharp and immediate. And after the initial shock of it, Snape found himself mesmerized by the feeling. Whether it was the distraction from his thoughts or the endorphins, he wasn't sure, but it felt good.

He avoided looking at his hand. He didn't want to see the blood, didn't want another painful reminder, but he could feel how wet his hand was. Very slowly, Snape started to make a fist. At the first stab of pain, he winced and opened his hand again.

Oddly enough, his breathing was slowing, becoming more regular for perhaps the first time that evening since the flashbacks had started. Propelled by those brief seconds of lucidity, he shut his eyes tightly, and made a fist once more, groaning aloud as the tiny crystalline shards imbedded deeper into his flesh. He squeezed harder, forcing the glass beneath his flesh.

Snape sighed at the pain and fell into a much-needed sleep as the crimson rivulets seeped onto the stone floor.

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_Author's note: _Thank you to everyone for your reviews of the last chapter. So I lied about Snape meeting Harry this chapter. Not deliberately… I had intended it to happen, but found I had rather too much to cover regarding Snape's mental breakdown. I'm already well into the next chapter, so the wait shouldn't be so long.

In the next chapter, Snape's mental decline continues. Dumbledore makes some suggestions to no avail. Severus and Harry finally meet face to face.

Thank you Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui (my awesome betas) for their help, advice and encouragement.

Also, for all you Unexpected Grace fans, I just updated that story as well this past weekend, so go check it out!

Feedback is always appreciated.


	11. This is goodbye

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake** by **CocoaSnape  
****Chapter 11: This is goodbye**

Snape woke up to the unfamiliar and unexpected sensation of comfort. To his surprise, he found that he was no longer lying on the floor, but on his sofa, cocooned in warmth by a thick blanket. Across from him, the Headmaster was half-asleep in a chaise lounge, but he became instantly alert when he sensed Severus was awakening.

Tentatively, Snape studied his hand. There was no trace of blood or pain and all visible signs of damage had been erased. Snape wondered for a moment if he'd dreamt the whole thing, but glancing over to the hearth, he could see the remnants of crystal still littering the floor.

"Did I miss my classes?" Snape asked, hope flaring in his chest at the very idea. That had to be why the Headmaster was here, after all.

"Not yet, it's still early. But I came to tell you that I've asked Filius to take over your classes today and tomorrow." Dumbledore paused for a long moment as if he were waiting for a response. When none came, he continued, "I would have done it sooner, but the truth is, I've been waiting for you to ask me yourself." Dumbledore firmly believed that the act of asking for help was therapeutically important. He'd been hoping that Severus would take this step on his own. Apparently not.

Dumbledore continued, "After you left, Harry came to see me last night." Snape winced. "He's very worried about you, Severus."

"You told me you spoke with him already," Snape accused.

"I did, Severus, two nights ago. I asked him to give you some time to think about things, but you know Harry. He wanted to check on how you're doing." Dumbledore paused, leaned forward, and asked sadly, "What should I tell him, Severus? I don't honestly know."

"Tell him I'm fine."

"So you're asking me to lie to him?"

"For Merlin's sake, Albus," Snape sighed, "give it a rest."

"That's quite the request given I found you bleeding on your floor this morning."

Snape said nothing in reply, and this worried Dumbledore. At least when he was fighting him, he was speaking. Snape's affect had gone completely flat.

"Severus," Dumbledore began hesitantly, "I think perhaps you should consider speaking with Harry."

At that, Snape's eyes widened to the size of saucers and he dismissed the notion at once. "Absolutely out of the question."

"I know you think it would do more harm than good, and I've been inclined to agree thus far, but you're not exactly the image of recovery at the moment either." Dumbledore let out an exasperated sigh as he continued, "And I must confess, with your refusal to seek professional help, I'm out of ideas. I think you should at least try to see how you react to Harry."

"I can't."

"I'd be there with you of course, to make sure you're alright." A pause. "Eventually, Harry will need to know what's going on. You can tell him you need space, if that's what you want, but you know Harry; he will need to hear it from you, if only to reassure him that you're not breaking off the relationship."

"But that's precisely what I'm doing."

Stunned, it took Dumbledore a minute to regain his voice. "You don't mean that."

"I do," Snape said with sudden resolve. "I'm ending it with Harry."

Dumbledore took a deep breath and said softly, "I can't believe that that is the solution here, Severus. You and Harry have been through so much, and―"

"I've made up my mind, Albus." The truth was, although the idea had been floating around in his mind amid hundreds of others, he hadn't actually decided anything until he'd said it out loud a moment ago. But hearing himself utter the words had given him a strange clarity on this matter. It was as though the decision had been made for him.

"Severus, I think you shouldn't get ahead of yourself. Harry will understand if you need more time away from him; he will wait for you, Severus." Dumbledore could see Severus shaking his head and continued, "But you should at least see him in person, and explain your reasons. You owe him that."

"You tell him… I can't…"

"Severus, you can't be serious."

"I don't have the capacity for humor anymore, Albus."

"And what exactly do you expect me to say?"

"Anything, I don't care. Tell him I need some time alone, tell him anything, just make him understand I can't see him anymore."

"Severus, do you really believe Harry will just accept that, and from me? Come now, you know he'll demand to hear it from you before he even considers―"

Snape interrupted angrily, "Are you trying to make this harder on me?" He rubbed his face in his hands; his head was beginning to throb. "I can't see him… I can't…" he breathed out harshly, "I feel like my mind's…" Snape stopped, unable to finish his thought – _I feel like my mind's going to explode._

Dumbledore could hear what Severus was thinking and that was highly disconcerting. "Severus—"

"I think you should tell Harry the truth," Snape blurted out suddenly.

Dumbledore stared at his friend in astonishment.

"Go on. Tell him the truth about what happened. Then seeing me will be the very last thing on his mind."

"Severus," Dumbledore began in stunned shock, "You can't honestly want me to tell Harry what happened that night."

"Yes, I do," Snape replied, half-hysterically. "That's exactly what I want. You're right… he needs to know, otherwise he'll never stop trying to seek me out." Snape grabbed the collar of his shirt, desperately trying to loosen it. "I have to get out of here, I feel like I'm suffocating. I'm going for a walk."

"Outside?" Dumbledore asked in bewilderment, sensing Severus's intentions. "It's well below freezing out there."

"I don't care," Snape replied and began to walk towards the door. A moment later, he stopped, his back still turned to Dumbledore. His lifted his right hand and stared at it a moment before whispering, "Thank you, Albus."

"You're very welcome, my boy," Dumbledore replied as Snape left the room.

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Snape gave up trying to disable the warming charm Dumbledore had apparently placed on him before he'd left. He'd wanted to feel the bite of the cold, but apparently the Headmaster was concerned that he might let himself freeze to death. Perhaps he hadn't been that far off the mark in that.

Snape remained outside by the Great Lake for a few hours – the change of scenery and the solitude leaving his mind blissfully clear. Or perhaps it was the vials of anti-anxiety potion he'd been taking all morning. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out another vial and downed it, unconcerned with the dosage or the potion's addictive properties.

_How had it come to this?_ Severus wondered. Of course he was in shambles, but he couldn't help but think about how Harry was suffering as well. It'd been six days since he'd seen him, and even though Dumbledore had spoken with him, he was undoubtedly sick with worry. That was his fault, and he knew it.

None of this would be happening now if he hadn't broken the promise he'd made to himself some months ago, to never subject Harry to his life. He'd rationalized his decision to pursue their relationship by asserting that he could keep the relationship separate from his work as a spy. He realized now how foolish an idea that had been. And he also let himself face the truth that it was his own selfishness that had gotten him to this point. He had wanted to be with Harry, and he'd justified that decision with a series of convenient excuses, feeble though they were.

He'd chosen this life. He'd accepted the risks. But what he did not accept or fully comprehend was the danger that he'd put Harry in when he'd begun their relationship. It hadn't occurred to him before, not really.

First there was the fact that he was using these false dark perversions for Harry in order to better position himself within the Dark Lord's circle. And while he hadn't originally thought that was a problem, he did now. Someone had stolen those hairs from Harry and given them to the Dark Lord. Of course it could have happened anywhere – in Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, or even Hogwarts – but the point was that someone with evil intent had gotten close enough to his Harry in order to obtain those hairs.

He had put Harry's life in danger. And it was something that Severus vowed to never do again.

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Harry was truant to his first class of the day, Transfiguration, well aware that Professor McGonagall would have his hide for it later, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. He needed to see the Headmaster. He'd tried earlier this morning, but there had been no answer. Harry hadn't slept a wink last night, contemplating this self-imposed exile from Severus. It was driving him mad – nearly a whole week without a word between them – it felt like an eternity. It didn't reassure him that Severus had been 'faking' the flu the past two days either.

Harry had decided that he hadn't been insistent enough with the Headmaster about his desire to speak with Severus, even if only for a moment. And he planned to remedy that now.

As he made his way toward the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, he glimpsed a figure through the window a good distance away, standing out by the lake. Although the man's back was turned, Harry would have recognized Severus's frame anywhere.

It was a long trek through the snow, and by the time he had made it within earshot of his lover, Harry was freezing. Not only was he not dressed to be outside in this weather, but his shoes and socks were completely soaked. But all that was forgotten for the moment.

"Severus…" Harry began tentatively.

Severus did not turn around. Harry wasn't sure if he'd heard him and so he took two more steps forward and repeated it again, louder this time. "Severus."

Severus Snape visibly startled at the sound of his name. When he turned around, his eyes widened to find whom had spoken it.

Even in this short amount of time, Harry could see the difference in Severus's appearance. His cheekbones seemed to protrude a bit more on his thin face, suggesting that he hadn't eaten a full meal in days. His exhaustion was evident from the deep, dark circles beneath his eyes. Most noticeable were the wide dilated pupils that looked so unnatural, they suggested that he was drugged as well, although Harry couldn't have begun to guess with what. Harry desperately wanted to fling his arms around his lover, comfort him, but he remained standing a few feet away. He was already on shaky enough ground as it was seeing him this way.

"I needed to see you, Severus," Harry began. "I'm sorry if… if I'm bothering you, but I've been worried sick. I just wanted to see how you are, make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine."

Harry waited, but realizing that Severus wasn't going to say anymore, he ventured, "Can you tell me what's going on?"

Snape swallowed the lump in his throat and asked, "You didn't speak with Albus then? He didn't tell you?"

Harry shook his head. "I haven't seen him."

"I see."

The silence stretched between them for a long minute. Severus found himself somewhat surprised that he didn't have a flashback the moment he'd laid eyes on Harry. It might have been the heavy dose of anti-anxiety potion he'd been taking or perhaps his control was better than he thought. He strengthened his mental walls and tried to block out the surfacing emotions.

Meanwhile, Harry was similarly impressed with himself for showing such restraint. He wanted to demand an explanation, but decided to wait and let Severus speak when he felt ready. As he waited, he was finding it more and more difficult to ignore the cold and soon, he was shivering uncontrollably.

Only then did Severus realize that Harry hadn't had the sense to use a warming charm. "For Merlin's sake, are you trying to get yourself sick?" he grumbled. He pulled his wand out and cast the appropriate drying and warming incantations.

Harry relaxed at once, his body relieved by the sudden heat flooding him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." A long pause. "How are you?" Severus asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Okay," Harry replied, breathing a sigh of relief that Severus had finally engaged him in conversation. "And you? You look tired."

"I had a late night." _That_, Snape thought, _and I haven't slept in days_.

Another very long pause.

"Severus," Harry pleaded, his patience dwindling, "please talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

Snape took a deep breath and replied somewhat painfully, "I can't."

Harry's eyes betrayed his surprise at that answer. "You can't? But you can tell me anything, Severus."

"Not this."

"Alright," Harry said slowly, frustrated by Severus's guarded responses.

"You should speak to the Headmaster about it. I can't say anymore."

"Severus, it's okay, I don't need to know, and you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But whatever it is, it doesn't mean we can't get through this together."

Snape shook his head, his eyes closed. "I'm afraid that isn't going to be possible, Harry. I think…" he paused, unsure of how to say this, "…I think we need to spend some time away from each other for a while."

"But why?"

"It's for the best, Harry, believe me," Snape said, sighing heavily.

"No it's not," Harry replied. "You're all I have, Severus…"

Snape couldn't take much more of this. His mind was reeling. He fought to control it. "You need to remedy that then. Use the time to be with your friends, go play Quidditch—"

Rage bloomed in Harry's gut and he was powerless to control it. "You son of a bitch!" He couldn't believe that Severus was giving him this speech again, after all they'd been through! A few months ago Severus had broken off their relationship with nearly the same words, and Harry had said little to stop it. Not this time, he resolved. He wasn't going to give in. "I can't believe we're back to this."

"Harry, please listen to me," Severus began sincerely, "I'm not trying to belittle you. You know me better than that. This isn't like last time. I'm just suggesting that if you spend your free time with your friends instead of worrying about me, the time we spend apart will pass more quickly. I don't want this to be harder on you than it already is. Just please try and get your mind off me for a while, so I can use the time to get myself straight."

"How long is a while?" Harry asked, somewhat appeased by Severus's explanation.

"I don't know," Severus replied. He was exhausted, and the stress of speaking to Harry like this was wearing on him.

"I mean what, Severus," Harry pressed, "a few days, a week?"

Snape swallowed. He couldn't imagine feeling better in a few days – hell, he couldn't imagine feeling better ever again.

Harry could see from Severus's face that he had underestimated. "More than a week?" he asked in shock. "A month?" he asked with wide eyes, not quite able to believe Severus really needed or wanted that much time away from him.

Snape covered his face with his hands and breathed out in almost a sob, "I don't know, Harry. I can't know."

There was a long moment of silence and Harry said, dejectedly, "Alright. But it's just for a while, right?"

"Just for a while," Snape whispered, unable to meet Harry's eyes as he said it.

Harry appeared to have calmed down by this reassurance. "But maybe I could come by for dinner every now and then," he suggested hopefully.

Severus's eyes widened.

"I mean I won't stay the night," Harry explained quickly. "It wouldn't be like that."

It hit Snape in that moment. Harry didn't understand. Not at all.

Sensing Severus's shock, Harry amended, "Okay, no dinner. Maybe I can just come by after class sometime." When Severus said nothing to that, he continued, "We'll get through this, Severus. We did before."

Snape's mind was racing now and he felt sick to his stomach. He managed to whisper, "This is nothing like before."

Snape was distantly aware that Harry was speaking to him, but he couldn't hear a word. He was enveloped in a cold sweat and he recognized the panic attack descending on him. Reaching into his robes, he grabbed the vial of anti-anxiety draught – his last one – and downed it without thought.

Harry was staring at him in obvious surprise, probably wondering what he had just taken, but he said nothing. A few seconds later, Snape's mind began to cloud over, his senses dulled, his emotions buried under the surface.

Snape thought about what Albus had said to him, that Harry would wait for him. Harry loved him, and he would wait for him forever if need be. That truth hit him with unexpected force as he stared at this marvelous boy in front of him whom he loved more than any other. And suddenly, everything was clear. He knew exactly what he had to do.

Snape took a deep breath and spoke with a calm that completely belied everything he was feeling, "Harry, I cannot see you anymore, do you understand?"

_Anymore_. Harry's heart began to pound. The change in Severus's tone was alarming. Fear crept into his chest.

"Harry…" Severus began.

Harry moved to interrupt. He would not let Severus finish, he could not. "I'm sorry," he said hurriedly. "I'll do whatever you need. Anything. And if that means leaving you alone for a month, then I'll do it."

"Harry—" Severus said.

"I won't come around," Harry interrupted again, his tone even more frantic. "I'll sit in the back of the classroom, I swear it. I won't say a word in class, and I won't try to talk to you… I promise."

"Harry—"

"I'll drop Potions," Harry suggested swiftly, his demeanor growing more and more hysterical. "I'll take private lessons from Dumbledore or something. You won't have to see me at all if that's what you want."

"Harry, please don't make this harder than it is," Snape said, his voice sad, but resigned.

Harry fought to remain calm, but it was a struggle. "Please, Severus, don't let whatever this is drive us apart. It can't be that bad—"

"You can't imagine how bad…"

Harry pressed on. "Whatever happened, it doesn't change anything between us."

"It changes everything," Severus breathed out in a half-sob.

Harry took a deep breath, trying desperately to remain strong. "But you can't mean to say that we can't be together anymore?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Severus replied. "And it was a mistake to think I could do this. It was a mistake to ever subject you to this."

"To what?"

"To me!" Snape snapped. "To my life."

"Don't you think I should be the one to make that choice?" Harry demanded heatedly.

"You made a very convincing argument to that effect last time, Harry," Snape replied. "And we tried, didn't we? And look where we are now…" Snape's voice trailed off.

"Listen to me, Severus. It doesn't matter. None of it matters, because I love you," Harry said earnestly, meeting Severus's gaze, willing Severus to see the truth and love behind his words. "Don't you understand that no matter what happened… what happens, it won't change the way I feel about you? Nothing you could ever do or say will change that." Harry stopped a moment and took a deep breath. He could see the softening of Severus's features, and he knew his words were having an effect. "We went through so much to get to this point, and I know it wasn't all for nothing. How many other couples have been tested the way we've been? We're so much stronger because of that."

Harry took two steps forward, so that he was face to face with Severus and spoke with an intensity that reached far beyond his years. "We're _meant_ to be together, Severus. I know that, and I know you know that. I love you more than anything in this whole world. And that's all that matters. Whatever this is, we'll get through it, because we love each other."

The silence seemed to stretch forever, the force of Harry's words hanging in the air between them. Harry waited, but the response was not at all what he'd expected.

"You foolish boy, love isn't always enough!"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Yes it is; love is everything."

"You have no idea what love is," Snape said forcefully.

Harry was speechless.

"You think you know," Snape continued, "but you don't… you don't have the maturity to know."

With that, Snape turned and started towards the castle.

"Don't you dare walk away from me," Harry shouted. "You're the one who doesn't know what love is," Harry snapped. "You're the one who's giving up."

At that, Snape spun around sharply. _Giving up? Is that what you think?_

Snape took a step closer, his eyes boring holes through Harry's as he spoke, "_Love_, Harry, is doing something because you know it's the right thing to do even as it's eating you alive." Severus's eyes were burning, his expression wild, his voice rough with emotion. "Love is walking away… even as it breaks you into a million pieces."

Severus was hyperventilating now, but he pressed on, "Even when you feel you can't _breathe_ through the pain of it, but you have to… for that person." Tears welled up in Severus's eyes as he finished, "That's love, Harry… letting go."

A moment passed.

"Severus…" Harry began, searching for something to say.

"I'm very sorry, Harry. I truly am. But this is goodbye," Severus whispered before starting back towards the castle so that Harry would not see the tears streaming down his face.

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_Author's note: _Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I'm a little scared of what you all are going to do to me regarding this one. But you should know by now that I can't write a story without torturing this pair and surely you didn't think the sequel would be different? I can say that if you're hoping for a rapid resolution of this crisis, don't hold your breath.

In the next chapter, Snape's condition deteriorates rapidly and Dumbledore desperately attempts to find another therapist with whom Severus might consider speaking to before it is too late.

Thank you Ketsurui and Molvanian Queen-In-Exile (my awesome betas) for their help, advice and encouragement.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated.


	12. Splintered mind

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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_This chapter deals with many sensitive themes. Be warned._

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**In Memory's Wake** by **CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 12: ****Splintered mind**

Harry stood unmoving in the snow, his body, his mind reeling in shock. Severus had already disappeared inside the castle, but still Harry did not move.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before an irate Professor McGonagall found him.

"Mr. Potter, have you not heard me calling your name for the last five minutes?" she huffed irately.

"What?" Harry asked, torn from his trance, his eyes lingering on Severus's footprints in the snow.

"I've been looking for you since you were absent from my class this morning. Imagine my surprise at finding you out here in the snow. What on earth are you doing out here, young man?"

"I need to see the Headmaster," Harry replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

"The Headmaster? What is this about?" she inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

"I need to see him now," Harry said, urgency entering his voice.

Without another word, McGonagall led him to the stone gargoyle and spoke the password so that he could ascend the staircase. Harry knew that she had assumed that this had something to do with Voldemort. Perhaps she believed he'd had another dream. Harry was not about to correct her. He couldn't believe this was really happening. Severus had just ended their relationship, a relationship he'd been certain would last his lifetime. And now it was over in a matter of weeks. Just like that. This couldn't be real.

The Headmaster was very kind to him and listened to his recounting of events without interruption.

"And then," Harry finished, tears flowing freely down his face, "he just walked away."

Dumbledore handed Harry a handkerchief and said gently, "I'm so very sorry, Harry."

A long moment passed between them before Harry pulled himself together and asked, "You know what this is about, don't you?"

A nod.

"Tell me."

Dumbledore paused and swallowed roughly.

Harry pressed, "He told me to talk to you. He said you would explain."

Dumbledore was still silent and Harry was now sure he wasn't going to tell him. He was about to lash out, but the next moment, the elder wizard began to speak, and Harry realized that Dumbledore had been steeling himself all along.

"This is going to be very hard to hear, Harry."

Harry nodded mutely and noticed that Dumbledore had paled somewhat. Oh god, this must be bad.

"Severus was forced to…"

At Dumbledore's pause, Harry cringed and supplied the rest, "Like before," thinking that Severus had been raped.

"No. Forced to assault someone."

Confusion sprung in Harry's face. "What? Who?"

"A random muggle."

"Oh. Torture? Like the Cruciatus?" Harry asked, wondering why this was so bad. Surely he'd have done that before.

"I'm sure," Dumbledore continued grimly, "but more than that, Harry."

The look on Dumbledore's face said it all. Harry felt his stomach drop. "Like…?" He couldn't say it.

"Sexually," Dumbledore supplied gravely.

"Oh my god," Harry said, hanging his head in his hands.

Dumbledore wondered if he should tell Harry the whole of the story. This had been hard enough after all. As he was contemplating this, Harry spoke.

"Has he…" Harry paused, trying to clear the lump in his throat. "Has he ever done anything like this before?"

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "There have been times where Severus's role as a spy has forced him to do many unpleasant things, some of which you are aware of from last term. I don't know any of the specifics about this incident, only the little Severus has told me, but based on our conversations, I don't imagine this is something he has done before, or at least not in a very long time."

Dumbledore studied the young man in front of him and queried gently, "May I ask, Harry, how _you_ are feeling about this?"

"I'm okay."

"It's perfectly alright to feel confused about this, my boy."

"I know. I'm fine. I'm just worried about Severus."

"As am I."

"Is there anything I can do to help him?"

"I'm trying to get him professional help, Harry. He needs to speak with someone about what has happened and how he's coping. He won't speak of it to you, of that I am certain."

"No kidding," Harry replied under his breath. A thoughtful pause. "I need to see him, Professor. I need to tell him that I understand," Harry said, astutely aware that Severus would think he'd be horrified.

Dumbledore took a measured breath. "There is more to this, Harry." Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment before continuing, "This is the hardest part of what I have to tell you."

"It gets worse?" Harry asked in astonishment.

"I'm afraid so." A pause. "The muggle was polyjuiced."

"Okay?"

"Polyjuiced… to look like you."

Harry couldn't speak. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind. And suddenly Severus's behavior over the past several days became clear. Acting out those fictitious perversions for that monster had taken a grave enough toll on Severus, but this? This must have pushed him over the edge. No doubt he had had to hurt the muggle, the muggle who had looked like him. The rage that filled Harry in that moment was greater than what he'd ever felt before. His eyes were mad with it, and he spat out violently, "I'm going to kill him! And I'm going to make him suffer when I do it!"

Dumbledore responded with complete calm, "One day you will, Harry, but letting your anger towards Voldemort consume you now will not do anyone any good, least of all Severus. He's going to need you to remain level headed."

Harry knew the Headmaster was right. He took a few deep breaths and did his best to clear the offending emotion away before asking "What should I do, Professor?"

"I would advise you to do exactly as Severus asks. Give him the space he is requesting of you."

"Space?" Harry repeated incredulously. "He doesn't want space; he said he doesn't want to be with me anymore, ever."

"He may not want to see you for a while, that is true, but that doesn't mean he'll never want to see you again. It's perfectly normal for him to need time away from you after what's happened. You can understand that, can't you? The strain he is under is unbelievable, and his mental state is far from stable – he needs to be relieved of external stressors, and at the moment, that's exactly what you are to him."

Harry grimaced and Dumbledore continued, "I am very hopeful I can convince him to speak with a therapist. For him to keep this bottled up inside him is akin to a ticking time bomb. He is extraordinarily fragile at the moment and I worry what will happen if he is pushed too far. Do you understand me, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry replied somberly, completely devastated by what the Headmaster was telling him. He had no idea that Severus was in such a horrible state.

"Harry, look at me," Dumbledore urged gently. Reluctantly, Harry met that bright blue gaze. "It's going to be alright, my boy."

Emotion overwhelming him, Harry nodded, accepting the gift of Dumbledore's words. He needed to believe them.

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After taking three vials of Dreamless Sleep, Snape concluded that he'd become immune to the potion's effects and that he needed something stronger. He was desperate for relief.

His encounter with Harry just a few hours ago had left him beside himself with anxiety and grief. His only consolation was that he'd finally spoken to Harry, had finally demanded time away from him in person. Even as that thought passed through his mind, his throat clogged up and his eyes welled with tears. It was truly over between him and Harry. That's what he wanted, wasn't it? Then why was the idea of it plaguing him? He loved Harry beyond measure and yet now, when thoughts and emotions about the young man rose to the surface, his mind clouded over in panic, bringing him to the brink of insanity. The contradiction was maddening.

Finally, in his medical emergency kit reserved for Heads of Houses, Snape found what he was looking for. Ignoring the dosage label on the bottle, he downed the vial of Draught of Living Death and promptly fell into a blissful state of unconsciousness.

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The Headmaster had been pacing around his office for the past hour. He glanced at the door to his private study once more and wished he knew what was going on in there. He'd recruited another therapist for Severus. Dumbledore had chosen a man this time, thinking that perhaps Severus would respond better to a male presence.

Mr. William Higgins was a wizard with a degree in Muggle psychiatry, and he'd come highly recommended from a few of the Headmaster's old colleagues. Dumbledore hoped that things were proceeding better than they had with Felicia. She had stormed out in a fit of rage and it had taken a rather awkward Floo conversation with his nephew to sort out the mess Severus had created. At least he was no relation to Higgins, Dumbledore mused, so presumably there would be no such complications this time around. Dumbledore sincerely hoped that this man would be able to help his friend.

The door to the study swung open a moment later and Severus sauntered out, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face.

"Oh dear Merlin," Dumbledore muttered under his breath. This was not a good sign.

Seconds later, Higgins emerged and Dumbledore was shocked to see that the man had obviously been crying – his cheeks were flushed, his eyes were red and his hands were trembling. He didn't say a single word as he headed for the Floo.

"Do say hello to mother for me, Willy," Severus called out tauntingly.

The comment brought fresh tears to Higgins' visage and a moment later he was gone.

Dumbledore stood stock still, completely stunned by the spectacle.

"Thank you, Albus," Snape began, "that is the most fun I've had in days. Turns out poor Willy has rather severe abandonment issues; I recommended intensive therapy."

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh. He had known that it would be a difficult task finding a therapist for Severus. But the degree to which his plan had backfired only became apparent to him in that moment. Severus looked almost well. Rather than being forced to confront and discuss his emotions, these therapists had done quite the opposite – they had given Severus a distraction, something to help him escape, enabling him to bury the pain he was feeling. The question was how long could Severus continue to do that before it completely overwhelmed him?

Even now, Dumbledore could see the torment returning to Severus's features, could feel the walls of Severus's mind crumbling. With each passing second, Severus's mental shields were weakening, and soon Severus's thoughts were coming to Dumbledore in bursts, disorganized jumbles of memory. Dumbledore seized one of these threads.

"Severus, look at me," Dumbledore said firmly.

Snape immediately complied and the momentary eye contact was more than enough for Dumbledore to understand what he'd seen. The Headmaster's voice was a mixture of censure and concern as he asked, "You took Draught of Living Death last night? Isn't that a bit potent?"

Snape's eyes erupted in fury and he snapped mockingly, "Oh what? Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"I wasn't probing your mind, Severus," Dumbledore replied flatly.

"Oh really?"

The Headmaster took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He did not want to provoke Severus further by revealing that he had heard his thoughts only because Severus's mental walls had slipped.

In many ways, Severus's skills in Occlumency were doing him a disservice through this crisis. To be an Occlumens was to be a master of concealment and deflection. Such abilities instilled an obvious psychological impetus to conceal one's thoughts and emotions at all times. It was little wonder that Severus was reluctant to forego these impulses and surrender to therapy, least of all to an outsider.

But Dumbledore was well aware that residing in his skill was an even greater threat to Severus's person. As a truly exceptional Occlumens, Severus had the capability to control the organization of his mind. This ability enabled him to move whole segments of thought, memory and feeling below the surface at a moment's notice, and if it were required, even below consciousness. The result was that Severus had a remarkable and very rare power over his mind, but along with it, a great responsibility of maintaining its structure and stability.

And at the moment, Dumbledore was not at all certain that Severus was paying particular care to his mental well-being.

"I'm very worried about you, my boy."

Snape said nothing. Any traces of his previous anger were erased, and in its place, anxiety had taken a tight grip on his features. Dumbledore could feel the emotions barreling through Severus's consciousness.

"Can I have some water?" Snape asked suddenly.

"Of course," Dumbledore said, pouring a glass from the pitcher on his desk at once and handing it to Severus.

Snape drank deeply and after a moment began seriously, his voice uncharacteristically meek, "You need to hire someone to replace me, Albus. I can't go back to teaching."

Dumbledore was torn by Severus's words – distressed that his friend realized how dire his predicament was, but also relieved that he was not in denial about his fragile mental health.

"I know I can't officially resign, but…"

"There's no need for that," Dumbledore interjected reassuringly. "I'll find a temporary substitute. You don't need concern yourself with school matters at all; just concentrate on getting better."

_Getting better? _Severus wondered. How on earth was he supposed to do that?

"I have to go, Albus; I'm feeling very tired," Snape said weakly. "I trust that given my performance with Higgins, you'll finally abandon this ridiculous notion of therapy."

"On the contrary, my boy. You've only convinced me that I need to try harder." At Snape's stunned expression, Dumbledore continued in earnest concern, "Severus, you are descending rapidly into a place from which I am not sure you can recover. And I'm going to do everything I can to help you."

A burst of anger, uncontrollable and alien, erupted in Snape's chest. "Why can't you just leave me alone?!" he shouted, as he threw the empty water glass across the room. It hit the stone wall and shattered into tiny pieces.

Dumbledore followed its path with his eyes and stared at the shards of glass as though he were admiring Severus's throw. He was the picture of calm.

But the portraits of the Headmasters and Headmistresses were anything but.

"How rude!"

"My word, throwing a tantrum in the Headmaster's office… what will we see next?" Dilys Derwent said in shock.

"In my day, boy, you'd be strung up by your heels and whipped for such behavior," Phineas Nigellus exclaimed.

Dumbledore put his hand up, and the simple gesture had the desired effect of silencing the room.

For his part, Severus's eyes remained fixed on the pieces of glass lying on the floor. His features betrayed his confusion, and it seemed as though he was wondering what had just happened. Finally, after a long moment, he began tentatively, "I … I don't know why I just did that, Albus," his voice full of remorse and bewilderment.

"I'm certain you don't, my boy," Dumbledore replied gently. The elder wizard placed his arm gently around his friend who was still staring at the glass in shock. "Let's get you back to your quarters now."

As they made their way down to the dungeon quarters, Snape didn't utter another word.

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Dumbledore had forfeited sleep last night in an attempt to gain some insight into the predicament of providing Severus with the help he so desperately needed. Finally, after much consideration, Dumbledore had come to a conclusion on the matter. The idea was so crazy, it was no wonder he hadn't thought of it before now.

He entered Severus's quarters shortly after breakfast and found his Potions Master lying on the sofa in the same position he'd left him last night.

"How are you feeling this morning, Severus? Have you eaten anything?"

"I'm not hungry."

Dumbledore ordered a full breakfast for him anyway, instructing the house elf to bring a selection of lighter fare.

"Why are you here, Albus?"

"I came to see how you are and to discuss options for your therapy."

A gleam entered the younger wizard's eyes as he asked, "Ah, who is it this time, Albus? Another joke of a therapist? You know, I was annoyed at first, but now I'm beginning to enjoy this game."

Dumbledore knew Severus was right – the two previous attempts at therapy had been jokes. Not that Felicia or Mr. Higgins was necessarily at fault, but clearly neither was suitable for Severus. What Severus needed was a therapist who was skilled enough to properly treat his condition, but also one that would not be bullied or frightened away. First and foremost, he needed someone he trusted, someone he felt he could confide in and conceivably feel comfortable enough with to ultimately let down his guard.

Not many candidates on the former, Dumbledore knew, and probably none on the latter. He'd considered this all last night and realized that there was really only one option. And he knew that Severus would not like it. Not one bit.

"You haven't made this easy, Severus. And so I've come to the conclusion that the only available option is for you to speak with me."

Snape's eyes went wide at the suggestion and Dumbledore felt certain he detected a flicker of fear behind them. "No." Snape was panicking; he knew Dumbledore wouldn't tolerate his shit the way the others had.

"Severus, this is not up for negotiation," Dumbledore said, his tone firm and resolved.

Snape was at a loss for words. Grasping at straws, he argued, "But you said I needed professional help. You're not…"

Snape stopped, taking in Dumbledore's polite stare, the way his head quirked to the side and the subtle look of satisfaction on his face.

"You bastard," Snape breathed softly, no trace of malice in his voice, just complete surprise. "I should have known."

"You're quite wrong there," Dumbledore replied genially, "my parents were wed before I was born, but regardless, my mother has nothing to do with this. In fact, she thought the mind healer business was malarkey."

"I don't understand."

"I did a dual mastery in Transfigurations and Medi-wizardry with a specialty in Psychlimency and Muggle Psychiatry. I worked in the field for a few years, but ultimately decided I wanted to teach, so I came back to Hogwarts."

"Why have you never mentioned this before?"

"Well, that was over a hundred years ago, you know…"

"Right! Exactly," Snape said, seemingly satisfied with this new argument. "A hundred years ago. You'll have no idea what you're doing."

"Oh, and Mr. Higgins did? Besides, I'm sure it'll all come back to me, like riding a bike as the muggles say. And I have done that incidentally," Dumbledore supplied, "An insanely dangerous endeavor let me tell you. You should see this thing, Severus, it's quite an unstable device, and to think they let children use it is really quite―"

"Albus," Snape interjected, "are you planning on talking until I give in?"

"Perhaps. Is it working?"

"No. I ca…" The words almost came out. _I can't do this._ "I won't do this. I don't need to."

"You don't think you need my help?" Albus asked gently. "Or do you not want my help? Which is it?"

"I'm not letting you psychoanalyze me."

Dumbledore took a different tact and began in a calm, agreeable tone, "How about this? How about we take it one day at a time? No commitments of any kind. We just sit down and talk and see how it goes."

"No." Snape's reply was firm and brooked no argument. He was tired of Dumbledore's attempts to draw him out. All he wanted was to be left alone.

"I'm trying to do what I think is best for you, my boy," Dumbledore said softly, concern for his friend etched in every line in his face. "And whether you see it or not, you are going to need my help in this. I think you already do. All that remains is for you to admit it to yourself."

"When hell freezes over," Snape snapped harshly.

Dumbledore's eyebrows flew up. "When hell freezes over?" the elder wizard repeated calmly, as though intrigued by the statement or perhaps the sentiment.

"What? Wasn't that clear enough for you?" Snape bit back.

"Oh, perfectly clear, Severus. I confess I'm just surprised to hear you using a Muggle expression."

"Well I happen to think it's rather apt," Snape said bluntly before turning on his heel and leaving Dumbledore alone in the room.

The Headmaster took a deep breath and mentally surveyed what journal subscriptions he should obtain in his old field. After all, he had a lot of catching up to do.

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Snape had been lying on his couch for the better part of six hours, trying desperately to fall asleep. He was physically exhausted, his whole body aching with frustrated fatigue, but his mind would not relent for a minute, keeping him perched on the edge of insanity as flashes of memory relentlessly invaded him.

Having depleted his anti-anxiety stocks some days ago, he'd drunk nearly a whole bottle of Firewhiskey in an effort to slip into unconsciousness. His stomach, raw from lack of food, had promptly rejected the offering and he'd vomited up most of the liquor. A healthy dose of bile had followed. He'd barely mustered up the strength to Scourgify the floor before collapsing on the sofa. And here he was hours later, the promise of sleep nothing more than a fantasy.

He stood abruptly and ransacked his cupboards for something he could take. Several minutes later, above the sink in his laboratory, he found it. Housed in a decorative vial, it was the first successful Draught of Living Death he'd ever brewed, some twenty years ago, its potency perfectly preserved. He held the vial up and paused for a moment.

_Think about what you're doing, Severus._

What was he doing? This was madness. He couldn't possibly take this. He'd taken a dose of Living Death just two days earlier. Its strength mandated, at minimum, a gap of two weeks between doses. Anything sooner risked permanent injury.

With a quick calculation, he estimated that the risk of irreversible coma was high, somewhere around 50. But somehow that mattered little. Sleep beckoned him.

_Severus, what are you doing?_

Another memory pushed through his nonexistent barriers and he doubled over from the intensity of it.

_Familiar bright green eyes filled with tears and clouded over by pain. 'I'm begging you, please don't do this.'_

Snape uncapped the vial. He'd do anything to make it stop – if only for a few hours. The very idea of completely shutting down his brain, of making all emotion go away for a brief period was close to a euphoric one. He needed this.

_This could kill you._

The thought almost seemed an incentive for him at this moment. A calculated risk to be sure, but what did he have to stay awake for anyway? The answer had once been clear… Harry. Now he could not even think of Harry without descending into a panic attack or a flashback or both.

A fifty percent chance. Did that qualify as suicidal? Dumbledore would surely think so. He'd rejected his offer of help out of hand. He didn't want his help; he didn't deserve it. What he wanted, what he needed, was to fall into blissful nothingness.

He lifted the vial to his lips.

He could almost hear Albus's voice in his mind then, telling him to stop, telling him not to do this. That he couldn't do this to himself, to Harry. _'Don't do it, Severus,'_ Dumbledore would say. Snape heard the voice as clearly in his head as if Albus were there with him.

And without a thought to what he was doing, Snape inverted the vial over the sink. As soon as the liquid hit the basin and disappeared down the drain, Snape was shouting.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" His voice was hysterical, mad with immediate regret. He clawed at the drain, as if by doing so there was a chance he might recover the precious liquid.

What on earth had possessed him to do that?

He knew he couldn't possibly brew any more; he was in no condition for that.

Devastated, Snape eyed the sink once again. Thousands of galleons gone down the drain. And worst of all, the promise of sleep lost with it.

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Harry couldn't sleep. Following his dreadful conversations first with Severus and then with Professor Dumbledore, he'd spent both yesterday and today in bed, feigning illness so that he might be excused from his classes. He knew that the Headmaster was aware that he wasn't ill of course, and he was grateful that Dumbledore had said nothing about it.

Hermione had tried to determine what was wrong with him. He'd lied and told her it was a stomach bug, although the look on her face told him that she suspected different. Tonight she'd demanded the truth, and he'd almost told her, but then changed his mind.

It wasn't because Harry was worried that she would tell Ron. But wasn't that a horrible thought in and of itself? He couldn't honestly imagine what Ron would say beyond _'I told you so'_ phrased in every manner of cruel ways. He'd be joyous and smug to boot. Harry seriously wondered if he'd attack his best friend if he were faced with such a response.  
But he knew that Hermione wouldn't tell Ron if he asked her not to. Still, he couldn't bring himself to tell her. It wasn't because it was horribly embarrassing that his lifetime with Severus had ended in just two months. He knew Hermione would be both sympathetic and discreet. The reason Harry couldn't tell her was because he feared that saying it out loud would make it true.

He still held onto the belief that Severus had spoken rashly – he had been in a bad state after all. Now that Harry knew what it was that had driven him to such a place, he could see how Severus needed to disconnect himself from their relationship for the time being, just as Dumbledore had suggested. Harry had to believe that this need for space was a temporary one.

He hadn't had much time to consider how he felt about what Severus had done, beyond the burning hatred for that monster Voldemort. What happened wasn't Severus's fault – that was the bottom line. Instead, Harry's attentions had been solely focused on the supposed end of their relationship. He couldn't accept it. He kept coming back to Dumbledore's assertion that Severus would get better. He had to. And once he did, wouldn't he want to be with him again?

Harry grasped the amulet hanging around his neck. It had been Severus's promise to him, given as a gift just before the first time they'd made love. _'This binds us together,'_ Severus had said, _'You're now part of my family.'_ Harry knew that Severus wouldn't ever throw that away, not permanently. Regardless, Harry resolved, even if he were to try, he wouldn't let him.

Harry reached into his nightstand and pulled out the Marauder's Map as he'd done many times over the past two days. Quickly flipping over the map to the section housing the dungeons, he found what he was looking for, and his fingers fondly touched the floating bubble labeled _'Severus Snape.'_

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His hands gently caress the young man's flesh, over his back and then over the curve of his buttocks. Clouded by arousal, he urgently twists Harry onto his stomach and immediately presses his chest firmly against Harry's back, so that their bodies are flush. He groans at the contact.

Slowly, but without preamble, he enters him. The noises Harry is emitting below him are glorious. They fuel him on.

Like a snake, slow and sinuous, he coils his arms around the young man, taking him fully into his grasp, possessing him. As his hands roam freely over the boy's chest, he feels a slickness that puzzles him. Much too wet to be perspiration. His brings his hands around and is stunned to see them covered in blood.

Suddenly he becomes aware that the noises coming from Harry are not moans, but sobs, cries of pain. He wants to stop then, but a voice – high, cold and piercing – bids him to continue.

He does, ramming into the body below him with abandon until he hears the boy's cries intensify. He does not relent, not even when the screams pierce his ears.

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Snape woke to his own harsh screams. The images of his nightmare crashed over him, and his body shook violently as he fought to bury it beneath his consciousness.

The strands of memory were building inside his mind, a tumult of horror threatening to overtake him at any moment, like an escalating wave straining against his mental shields, threatening to crash over him. With great difficulty, he focused his magic intensely on his Occlumency, and somehow managed to stabilize his turbulent mind.

He forced himself to breathe, and with great effort, his lungs took a deep raspy gasp. It was as though he was suffocating – every second of this felt like slow death.

Desperate to get away, desperate for air, he exited his quarters, not at all aware of where his feet were taking him.

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Harry ran as fast as he could toward the Astronomy tower. So urgent was his destination, he hadn't even bothered to grab his invisibility cloak. When he'd noticed just a minute ago that the floating bubble labeled _'Severus Snape'_ on his Marauder's Map was moving toward the tower, he'd panicked. Why on earth would Severus be headed there at four o'clock in the morning, unless…?

No. It couldn't be. Harry didn't really believe that Severus would do such a thing, but he couldn't discount the possibility after what Severus had been through. Harry knew he wasn't supposed to see Severus – Dumbledore had made that abundantly clear. But Dumbledore had also told him that Severus's mental state was incredibly fragile. And besides, it wasn't Dumbledore who was keeping an eye out on Severus this eve.

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Snape visibly startled when the door opened, but quickly reasoned that the Headmaster had come to check on him, probably to dissuade him from throwing himself from the parapets. The idea had indeed crossed his mind once or twice, but that was not why he had come here. The cool night air had refreshed him somewhat as he slowly began the process of refortifying his Occlumency shields, or what was left of them after that ghastly nightmare.

When Snape looked up, he was horrified to find Harry standing just a few meters from him. He summoned his strength, and managed to ask, "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you on the map. I thought…" Harry paused. "I wanted to check if you were okay."

Snape took a deep breath and steeled himself against the dizziness invading his body. It took great effort to speak; forming the words was difficult given the concentration he was affording to his mental walls in Harry's presence. "As you can see, I am fine."

"You don't look so good," Harry replied gently. Seeing Severus in this much pain was devastating to him. He wanted to offer comfort, but couldn't think of what to say besides "I love you, Severus."

Snape threw his head back and turned his body away as though the words had burned him. In a way they had. He felt his heart begin to palpitate rapidly in his chest. He struggled for control.

"Please, Harry, if you only knew…"

"Dumbledore told me," Harry offered. "I wanted to tell you that I don't think any of this is your fault, Severus, and that I'm here for you. I know we can work through this."

A wave of nausea flooded through his body then, leaving him feeling profoundly ill. Whether it was the knowledge that Harry finally knew what he had done, knew that he had raped an innocent man, or whether it was Harry's complete exoneration of his actions, he did not know. He began to tremble, the memories of that night pushing toward the forefront of his mind. Once again, he blocked them, pushing them back.

"You're so naïve. Merlin, have mercy!"

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, Severus, but you're going to get better and I'll be waiting for you when you do," Harry insisted, suddenly needing Severus to see reason on this.

The strain of holding back the memory was overwhelming Snape's mind and body. He was half-delirious from the effort now, as he once again attempted to refortify his mental walls. He fixed his eyes on the ground and raised his hand up hoping to evoke silence from Harry. He needed to focus. Concentrating on the threads of his mind, he tried to reorganize the fold of memory threatening to overtake him, attempting to bury it below his consciousness.

As he struggled with this task, the pain in his head swelled to unbearable proportions, and his body doubled over from the intensity of it.

Harry was at his side at once, the boy's arm coming around his back to steady him. "Are you alright?"

Snape pushed Harry away from him as forcefully as his weakened body would allow and he spat frantically, his eyes wide and panicked, "Don't touch me!"

"Alright," Harry said remorsefully, taking a rapid step back. "I'm sorry." Tears were filling the young man's eyes now. "I'll give you all the space you need, Severus, but just please take back what you said, about it being over for good…"

Snape took a shaky breath. "I can't, Harry, I can't. Please…" He felt himself sinking. His head felt as though it was on the verge of exploding, the surge of pressure against his mental walls enormous. He buried the memory once more.

He had to make Harry stop, and he couldn't afford to soften the blow. He needed to make Harry go away.

"Damn it, Harry, it's over! Over! Do you understand?" he shouted. And then a moment later, Snape continued in a voice that was so full of desperation, he barely recognized it as his own. "Now _please_, just leave me be!"

The tower was spinning now, faster and faster, and Snape wondered if the castle was coming apart. Harry stepped into his field of vision and he could hear him speaking, "Please, Severus, don't…" There were tears leaking out of those bright green eyes now. "I'm begging you, please don't do this."

A flash of light, bright red behind his eyes and sudden blinding pain in his head. He tried to hold back the memory, but the force with which it came seemed to splinter his mind, like a dam cracking right down the middle. Blackness consumed his vision as he fell into unconsciousness.

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_Author's note: _Thanks everyone for your kind response to the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed this long chapter, and that you found it suitably provocative.

In the next chapter, Snape wakes up in the hospital wing.

Thank you Ketsurui and Molvanian Queen-In-Exile for the beta, and Graven Lament for helpful conversations.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated.


	13. Some sort of joke

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake** by **CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 13: Some sort of joke**

For the two men waiting in the main ward of the hospital wing, it felt as though Poppy Pomfrey was taking an eternity to emerge with some word on her patient's condition. Harry was pacing back and forth anxiously in front of the Headmaster, who was seated on the edge of one of the beds that normally reserved for infirmed students. The ward was empty and quite dark, the only light coming from a lamp in Poppy's open office.

Dumbledore glanced once again at his pocket-watch and found it was approaching 5 o'clock. It had been a long night. He'd been up very late thinking about how he was going to work around Severus's refusal of therapy. After coming to no useful conclusions on the matter, he'd forced himself to go up to bed. He'd been asleep less than an hour before Harry's Patronus had woken him, delivering the boy's frantic message about Severus's collapse.

They'd been waiting for almost thirty minutes now, and although Dumbledore knew that Poppy's examinations were always quite thorough, his worry was increasing by the minute, along with his fatigue. Harry looked positively exhausted himself.

A moment later, Poppy entered the room. Both men's gazes shot up.

"From my limited examination, he appears to have suffered no injury. I'll know more when he wakes up. Headmaster, may I speak with you a moment?"

"Of course."

Dumbledore entered Poppy's office, leaving Harry to wait restlessly outside. She closed the door after him. The medi-witch had no idea that Harry and Severus were lovers, but even if she had, she wouldn't have discussed her findings with the young man. Severus had long ago listed Dumbledore as next of kin on his medical records, permitting her to discuss his health with the Headmaster if warranted.

"How is he, Poppy?"

"Considering he sustained no injuries during this collapse, I have to confess, I'm a bit surprised to find him in such a poor state." She paused a moment before continuing, "For one thing, he's undernourished. I've given him a general vitamin infusion and a nutritional supplement. My scans also detected some mild liver toxicity, which I've also treated. When I ran a generic scan for toxins to eliminate that as a cause, I was stunned by the results."

Dumbledore could guess at once what Poppy had found.

"He had countless potions in his system, and at truly astounding levels. Everything from Anti-anxiety to Dreamless Sleep to Draught of the Living Death. Needless to say, these are all highly addictive, potent substances that should not be taken together and certainly not at the concentrations I found. Do you have any idea what would prompt Severus to do such a thing?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath before replying solemnly, "I'm afraid so, Poppy, but unfortunately I cannot discuss it."

"Well," the medi-witch continued, unfazed by Dumbledore's lack of explanation, "he's very lucky he didn't accidentally kill himself."

Despite his suspicions of Severus having been overmedicating himself, Dumbledore was still surprised to hear the extent to which Severus had gone in the past few days to dull his pain. And Poppy's words prompted him to wonder if perhaps Severus had tried to silence the pain in the ultimate way. A suicide attempt was not in Severus's character – but then again, his mental state had been radically altered after the incident with Voldemort.

Given all that Poppy had told him, Dumbledore was relieved that he had not left Severus's life to something so trivial as luck, as Poppy put it. Although Severus hadn't known it, a few days ago, Dumbledore had managed to elicit the relevant words from him. Along with a properly timed incantation on Dumbledore's part, the oath had been binding.

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"_Severus, promise me you won't do anything else to hurt yourself."_

"_Alright, but I need… I need you to do something for me."_

"_In return for you not harming yourself?" Dumbledore asked in astonishment. "If you're trying to inspire my confidence, my boy, you're not succeeding."  
"Stop being so dramatic, Albus. I'm not going to kill myself if that's what you're implying."_

"_Promise me."_

"_Fine, fine," Snape replied dismissively._

"_I need to hear you say it, Severus."_

"_For Merlin's sake," Snape sighed. "I won't kill myself, alright? Now will you do me that favor?"_

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It'd been enough. Dumbledore would have preferred Severus's word that he not harm himself in any way, but without telling Severus his intentions, he'd been content that his friend was safe from irreparable injury as he used the time to find Severus an appropriate therapist to treat him.

For all his wise years, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had no idea how close he'd come to losing his friend – how it was by that oath alone that Severus had not been able to drink that second vial of Living Death, which would have most certainly left him in an irreversible coma.

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Harry was beside himself with worry by the time Dumbledore entered the ward.

"How is he?"

"Madam Pomfrey says he appears to be fine. We'll know for certain how he is after he wakes. But in the meantime, Madam Pomfrey would like to hear your recounting of what happened on the tower. As would I."

A minute later they were in Poppy's office and Harry was struggling for the words to describe the horrible events of only an hour before.

"He was so upset. I've never seen him like that – his eyes were kind of glazed over and he looked like he was about to fall over. He kind of stumbled and so I tried to help him, but he pushed me away. I tried to tell him it would be alright, but that only seemed to upset him more. The more I said, the worse he got. I see that now. I should have left. I wasn't thinking," Harry almost sobbed.

"It's alright, Harry," Dumbledore said gently, trying to reassure the young man.

"And what exactly were you two talking about that caused Professor Snape to become so agitated?" Pomfrey asked.

"Uhmm…" Harry struggled for an answer, and said the first thing that came to mind. "My Potions homework." He winced at the ridiculousness of his answer and looked sheepishly at Dumbledore, who gave him an encouraging nod.

"Potions homework?" Pomfrey replied incredulously. "He was that agitated over Potions homework?"

"You don't know how he gets when it comes to our assignments," Harry tried to insist.

"What happened just before he collapsed?"

"I begged him not to… not to fail me. To give me another chance. Not right away," Harry hastened to explain, eyeing Dumbledore intently. "I mean on the next assignment. I didn't mean to…"

Harry was close to tears now as the import of what had happened hit him once again. He was certain that this was entirely his fault.

Dumbledore, sensing Harry's anguish, stood and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. Harry's tears fell freely.

The medi-witch looked totally dumbfounded. "Mr. Potter, this is not your fault."

"Madam Pomfrey is right, Harry," Dumbledore whispered behind him, the words causing Harry's chest to constrict.

"What happened just before Professor Snape collapsed?" Pomfrey asked.

"He started to shake and then I saw he was falling. I caught him before he hit the ground."

"Are you sure he didn't hit his head?"

"Positive. I caught him." Harry hesitated a moment before asking, "Can I see him when he wakes up? I mean, only if he's feeling up to it. Never mind, he probably won't want to see me. Forget it," Harry finished anxiously.

"Perhaps we should leave that decision up to Professor Snape," Dumbledore offered gently, knowing that the last thing Severus would want to do is see Harry.

"Of course," Harry replied. Harry eyed the Headmaster, who was standing serenely next to him. He couldn't understand how Dumbledore could be so calm at a time like this.

The elder wizard was anything but calm. He didn't want to add to Harry's agitation, but learning the circumstances surrounding Severus's collapse had served to only heighten his concern. He would have much preferred it if Severus had stumbled and hit his head on the stone, if that had been the cause of his unconsciousness. But from Harry's simplistic description, it sounded very much to Dumbledore that Severus had suffered a mental breakdown that had precipitated his collapse. And if that was indeed the case, Severus would not be well when he woke. Far from it.

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It was with great anxiety that Dumbledore waited for Severus to awaken. With his permission, he'd viewed Harry's memory of the events on the tower that had triggered Severus's collapse. Harry's reluctance to show Dumbledore the memory was overshadowed by his desire to help his lover in any way that he could.

To Dumbledore's dismay, the memory had only confirmed his suspicions that Severus had suffered some sort of mental breakdown. He'd asked Harry to wait outside in the main ward while he and Poppy waited for Severus to regain consciousness.

Dumbledore could see the first rays of the sun peeking out from the horizon, and he wondered how this day would unfold itself.

The moment Severus began to stir, Poppy was shining the illuminated tip of her wand in his eyes and Dumbledore could hear Severus's protests.

"How are you feeling, my boy?"

"Besides blind, you mean?" Snape retorted.

"Severus, stop being such a baby," Pomfrey responded at once, accustomed to the Potions Master's terse demeanor. "Now answer the question."

Snape took a deep breath and propped himself up on an elbow. He immediately winced and grabbed his head. "I have a horrible headache."

"I'll get you something for that," Pomfrey offered and retrieved a vial of Snape's own Headache Reducer. "Any other symptoms?"

"Hmm, I don't think so. I'm starving."

"Well that sounds like a good sign," Dumbledore said, smiling broadly as Severus not being any worse for the wear. It was a profound relief after expecting the worst for the better part of two hours.

"So, is either one of you going to tell me why I'm here?" Snape asked.

"You don't remember?" Dumbledore asked.

"No."

"That's perfectly normal," Pomfrey chimed in. "Given the stress Albus mentioned you've been under, a mild retrograde amnesia surrounding your collapse is to be expected."

"You collapsed on the Astronomy Tower, Severus. Does that ring a bell?"

"No. Sorry."

"Can you tell me the date, Severus?" Pomfrey asked.

"March 10."

Pomfrey nodded and continued, "Can you tell me what you've been covering in your first year lesson plans this week?"

"That's not a very good question as their rudimentary curriculum makes it such that I've been covering the same thing this week of March for the past 16 years, but we've been reviewing simple analgesics."

"Well then what about with your seventh years?" Poppy asked.

"I believe we just finished Ageing Potion and are in the process of beginning preparations to study the Draught of Peace."

"Is that right, Headmaster?" Pomfrey asked.

"Hmm…" Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "Unfortunately I don't know Severus's lesson plans."

As Pomfrey conferred with the Headmaster about that, Snape was staring at them with amused fascination. "Perhaps," he suggested, cutting through their conversation, "it might be helpful to your diagnostic examination of my person if you ask me questions to which you actually know the answers," he finished with a satisfied smirk.

"I don't know, Headmaster," Poppy said with a smirk of her own, "but he seems alright to me."

Dumbledore smiled. "You do seem better than I've seen you in many days, Severus."

"So I can go back to my quarters then?"

"Not so fast, Severus. I still have a few more tests. But you should be free in an hour or so."

As Snape grunted his distaste at that proclamation, Dumbledore excused himself. "I'll be right back, Severus."

Dumbledore exited the private ward and headed through Poppy's office towards the main ward, knowing Harry was anxiously waiting for word about Severus.

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After reassuring Harry that Severus was doing well, Dumbledore urged him to go back to Gryffindor Tower and get some much needed rest. Dumbledore started back to the private word to bid Severus goodbye before going back to bed himself. He passed Poppy on the way.

"All done with the examination?"

"Everything looks good, Headmaster. I'm just going to get Mr. Potter now."

"Whatever for?"

"Well, he seemed rather insistent on seeing Professor Snape earlier."

"Poppy, I don't think it's wise to bring Harry in to see Severus just now."

"Severus said it was fine."

Dumbledore's eyes bulged. "He did?"

"Yes. When I told him Mr. Potter was anxious to see him, he said to bring him in. He said he was looking forward to it, in fact."

"I see. Alright then." Dumbledore couldn't quite believe what Poppy was telling him. Severus had spent the past week avoiding Harry and it was Harry's presence that had precipitated his collapse into unconsciousness. And now he was suddenly willing to see him? He wondered if Severus was pushing himself too far once again.

Dumbledore entered the private room and spoke without preamble. "Poppy tells me that you're willing to see Harry."

"Yes. This should be interesting."

"Interesting?"

"Yes, Poppy told me what happened before I collapsed. That he was responsible."

"You don't remember the conversation you were having with him?"

"No."

"You two were talking about your last Death Eater meeting."

"Excuse me?" Snape asked, obviously shocked. "Why the devil would I be discussing that with him?"

"It seems you finally took my advice and decided that it was the best way to gain closure with him on the matter."

"I don't understand. Why?"

"Well," Dumbledore replied, "what happened does concern him, after all."

"It does?" Snape asked, his expression blank.

Dumbledore took in his friend's confused expression and asked hesitantly, "Severus, do you remember the last Death Eater meeting you attended?"

"Of course I do. The Dark Lord was thrilled about my rescuing McNair, Malfoy, Wormtail, Avery and Dolohov from the raid we planned. He'd tortured them by the time I got there."

When Snape stopped, Dumbledore prodded, "And?"

"And what?"

"Severus, I know this is difficult, but you did black out. Please just tell me the rest."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Snape demanded.

"You remember nothing else from that meeting?" Dumbledore asked.

"No."

"I see," Dumbledore replied, somewhat stunned by this new development. "Poppy mentioned retrograde amnesia, but I assumed that was related to the collapse, not events of last week." Dumbledore paused a moment to consider what he'd just learned. Given the insurmountable stress he'd been under, it was obvious that Severus had blocked out the dreadful event altogether.

"So what exactly happened at this meeting?" Snape asked.

"We can discuss the particulars of that another time," Dumbledore replied, trying to change the subject. No need to reopen that wound immediately. Not when Severus appeared stable for the first time in over a week. "Poppy's bringing Harry in."

"And he wants to see me to discuss what happened at the meeting?" Snape asked.

"No. He's just worried about you, Severus, that's all," Dumbledore supplied, puzzled by Severus's strange attitude.

"Ah, I get it," Snape said, his eyes filling with sudden understanding. "This was some sort of prank! He's responsible and he wants to make sure I wasn't injured, wants to apologize so I don't give him a semester's worth of detentions."

"No…" Dumbledore began but then trailed off. Suddenly, the strangest idea entered his mind.

At that moment, Harry burst into the room. "Severus, thank God you're alright," he said, moving towards the bed where Severus lay.

"Severus?" Snape repeated, the tone of his voice too complicated to discern.

Harry had been far too worried about Severus to keep his distance now. Without thought, he reached his hand out to his lover's cheek. "I was so worried," he said as he stroked Severus's jaw with the backs of his fingers.

Snape smacked Harry's hand away sharply. "What the fuck is going on here?!" Snape snapped angrily. "Potter, are you drugged or something?"

Dumbledore's pulse had accelerated beyond measure. Everything was falling into place.

"Harry, please go wait in my office for me. The password is 'chocolate bunnies.'"

"But professor―"

"Harry, please, it's very important. Severus is not well."

"The hell I'm not!" Snape interjected sharply.

"Harry, this instant…" Dumbledore said firmly. One glance at the Headmaster convinced Harry he should listen and he left the room.

"Albus, what's going on?" Pomfrey asked.

"Severus," Dumbledore began, ignoring the medi-witch, "tell me about your memories of Harry over the last few months."

Snape's expression was somewhere between puzzled and wondering if the elder wizard had finally lost his marbles. Nonetheless, he knew better than to argue with the Headmaster, so he answered the question. "What is there to tell? Despite my best efforts, the boy's aptitude for Occlumency is as dismal as ever. He shows some promise in Defense, I'll reluctantly admit, but overall, he's been his usual irritating self."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "I see." He'd been half-expecting such an answer, but hearing Severus speak about Harry this way after the way their relationship had progressed shocked him still. It took Dumbledore a long moment to process the import of Severus's words.

"Is there something else I should remember?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath as he considered his next question carefully. This was no time for discretion. If what he thought was true, then Poppy would need to know it as well. "Severus, am I to understand that you have no recollection of having a romantic relationship with Harry?"

In his peripheral vision, Dumbledore could see Poppy's eyes go wide, but it was Severus's expression that showed the greatest shock.

"Is this is some sort of joke?" Snape asked.

"No, Severus, it isn't."

Snape's expression was gravely serious as he studied his employer and friend for a long moment. Finally, he turned to the medi-witch and said seriously, "Poppy, I think you've got the wrong man in the hospital bed."

"Perhaps I do," she agreed.

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_Author's note: _It's an evil place to stop, I know…but I hope you'll forgive the cliffhanger of sorts.

The next chapter sees Dumbledore and Pomfrey trying to make sense of this (and explain it to us!). Also, Harry finally gets his chance to speak with Severus.

Thank you as always to Ketsurui and Molvanian Queen-In-Exile for the beta.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated.


	14. A startling lacuna

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake **by** CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 14: A startling lacuna**

Albus Dumbledore stared at his Potions Master and best friend with a mixture of relief and sorrow. Relief that he had found some way, however drastic, however short-lived, to escape the torment and mental anguish that he had been suffering this past week. But sorrow that, in the process, Severus had forgotten not only the trauma, but also the single most important element of his life, the person he had learned to love, the person he could not live without.

Dumbledore had taken Pomfrey aside and in less than a minute, he'd explained Severus's relationship with Harry, how it had begun earlier in the year during their lessons, how Severus had been completely upfront with him about it, had even asked to be removed as Harry's professor. And how Dumbledore had given them both his blessing. Pomfrey listened with a calm and professionalism that impressed Dumbledore, despite his having expected no less from her.

He did not go into any of the details of Severus's meetings with Voldemort. That, he felt, was unnecessary and would have unnecessarily compromised Severus's privacy. He only eluded to the fact that in addition to his relationship with Harry, Severus had also blocked out a series of traumatic events that had transpired over the past few months, events involving Severus's 'business dealings,' which Poppy understood as Order business. She hadn't needed any more information – she knew from her medical work what that monster Voldemort was capable of, even if she had no idea what specifically had happened to Severus.

When they reentered the private ward, Dumbledore resumed his discussion with Severus. At first, Snape continued to insist that he must be mistaken about the amnesia, that there were no memories missing from his mind. And for the most part, it seemed as though he was correct; Severus could recall details of conversations from one day before, from months before, as long as they had no connection to Harry or the traumatic events that had transpired with Voldemort. When he was pressed to remember specifics about those things, however, it was a different story.

"I'm still having trouble believing all of this," Snape said.

"Unfortunately, it's true, Severus. You've buried large segments of memories in your mind."

"But how can I not know that? I don't feel as though anything is missing or buried."

"Do you remember what you did over the Holidays?"

"I spent it in my quarters, like always."

"Doing what? Give me specifics," Dumbledore urged, knowing that Harry was with Severus for nearly every waking moment of those two weeks. He'd locked them in together after all.

Snape struggled for an answer for a long minute, his brow scrunched up from the effort. Finally, he said, "I remember brewing the Pensieve milieu."

"That's right, you did do that. But is that all you remember?" When Snape did not immediately answer, Dumbledore moved on and asked, "Do you remember Christmas dinner in the Great Hall?"

Again Snape thought a moment before replying, "Yes."

"Give me some specifics."

"I remember giving you your present."

"What else?" Dumbledore pressed. "What did we talk about? Who else was there?"

Snape closed his eyes in concentration. A moment later he opened them and with a frustrated sigh replied, "I don't remember." Reluctantly, Snape admitted, "I suppose there are some gaps in my memory. I'm not exactly sure why."

Dumbledore supplied the answer at once. "The reason you can't remember the dinner was because you and Harry spent the great majority of it sniping at one another. And you can't remember the rest of the Holidays in your quarters, because Harry spent them with you."

Snape's eyes went wide. "That's impossible."

"It's not. As I've already explained to you, Severus, you and Harry became involved romantically shortly after the Holidays."

"If I've repressed my so-called relationship with Mr. Potter, then why is it that I have other memories of him over the past few months?"

"Name some."

Just as Dumbledore anticipated, each of the memories Severus recounted were ones that revolved around Harry's training, be it Defense or Occlumency, or his work in Potions. Regarding their relationship, Severus remembered that they had developed a sort of truce throughout their lessons, but there the memories ended. He had forgotten their initial romantic encounter in October, their breakup, all the traumatic encounters with Voldemort, beginning with his own sexual assault in November, all up through his recent assault of the muggle a week ago.

But were it not for his memory loss, Snape was in excellent physical condition, as Pomfrey herself had said. And his mental state was the best that Dumbledore had seen from Severus in a long time.

"So we've established I've lost some memories," Snape said, finally conceding the point. "Can I return to my quarters now?"

"I don't think so, Severus," Pomfrey replied. "I'll have to run a full battery of scans on you." Snape grunted his frustration.

Dumbledore was deep in thought for a moment before he pulled Pomfrey aside and whispered, "Do you know anyone you can consult on this, Poppy? Discretely, of course."

"I know a few people, but I think it's your friends we should be contacting."

"I'll do that as well, but first I'm going to speak with Harry."

"What will you tell him?"

"The truth. That we have no idea what's going on."

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Dumbledore's discussion with Harry was a short one. He conveyed to Harry that Severus had suffered some unexpected amnesia related to the past months, and that Poppy was running a variety of scans to determine the cause and extent of the problem. After reassuring Harry that Poppy felt that some amnesia was normal under the circumstances, and that Severus seemed healthy otherwise, Dumbledore had sent the boy off to bed with some sleeping draughts and a promise to share their findings with him later.

Checking the time, Dumbledore realized he had a couple of hours before Poppy would be finished with her examination. After a quick shower, Dumbledore was sorely tempted to take a nap, but headed for his library instead.

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Upon returning to the hospital wing, Dumbledore found Severus awake and alert reading a Potions tome. Poppy was busily writing in her medical log.

"Ah, Headmaster, excellent timing. I've just finished my scans and am ready to go over the results with both of you."

Snape was still immersed in his reading. Dumbledore wasn't sure he'd heard Poppy, and so he drew Severus's attention to their conversation. "Severus?"

Snape looked up briefly and responded, "I'm listening," before returning his attention to his book.

Pomfrey shrugged her shoulders. Dumbledore couldn't quite believe Severus's disinterest in the proceedings, but he prompted Poppy to proceed.

"Well, there's good news and bad news. The good news is that every scan I've run has come back completely normal. There's no evidence of cranial trauma, no sign of diminished brain capacity, or detectable magical maladies. The bad news is that this leaves us with no organic cause to Severus's amnesia."

"Which leaves only psychological causes," Dumbledore supplied somewhat tentatively, glancing at Severus as he said it. Snape did not look up from his book.

"Yes. And as I know you are aware, the causes of psychogenic amnesia are many and not at all well-defined or understood."

"What did your research and contacts tell you?"

"Everything I've found relates to head injuries or disease, which unfortunately, does not translate to this situation."

"Still, perhaps we can draw some conclusions about how the mind handles memory loss."

"Well that's another bit of good news. The prognosis for retrograde amnesia following a traumatic event is quite good. Typically the memories are recovered anywhere between a few hours to a few days after the precipitating event. Sometimes, the memories return slowly, over a couple of weeks."

"That is good news."

"But again, this is not exactly a typical case. Amnesia does not normally present like this. Based on the stress you mentioned Severus was under, it is not unexpected that he would repress the memories of recent events," Poppy said, treading carefully on what she was saying. "But this is the most selective case of amnesia I've ever heard of. I did find some precedence for this among muggles actually. There is a condition known as lacunar amnesia, where the person is left with a 'lacuna,' or gap, in the record of their memory. But this typically surrounds the loss of memory of a specific event, not that of a person."

"Yes, but the events that Severus has blocked out are inextricably linked to a person, to Harry. And so it seems he's erased their relationship as well."

"Hmm." The medi-witch considered this, her expression pensive, before she finally admitted, "I've never heard of anything quite like this. Did you find anything, Headmaster?"

"Not much more than you at the moment." A pause. "So, have you come across anything about how we can treat this?"

"Do we really have to?" Snape asked suddenly, speaking for the first time. Both Dumbledore and Pomfrey's eyes went straight to him. He'd put his book face down on his chest and spoke with clear intent. "I'd prefer to keep any such memories of Mr. Potter, if they are indeed real, out of my head, thank you very much."

"Headmaster," Pomfrey interjected, "I wouldn't have a clue where to start. I think the best solution is to wait for the memories to return on their own. My understanding is that they must still be there, but buried. You'd know better than I… you're the expert in Psychlimency."

Dumbledore looked back at Severus, and found that the Potions Master had once again resumed reading his book.

"Poppy," Dumbledore suggested, "you should get some sleep. You've been at this far too long. Thank you."

"Alright then. Severus, I'll be back in a few hours. I'd appreciate it if you could stay here until I return. I'd like to rerun some of the scans and see if anything changes over time."

Snape looked up at Dumbledore who cast him a pleading glance. Reluctantly, Snape nodded his head.

"Thank you, Severus. If everything checks out, I'll release you this afternoon."

Only when Dumbledore was certain that Poppy had left the hospital wing, did he speak. "Severus, quite frankly I'm surprised to see how disinterested you seem to be in all of this."

Snape closed his book and trained his gaze on the Headmaster. "If you want my opinion, which clearly neither of you do, this is a colossal waste of time. I'm perfectly fine. Poppy said so herself. There is nothing medically or magically wrong with me."

"I beg to differ, Severus. You were under an inordinate amount of stress and suffered a collapse into unconsciousness after which you awoke missing significant portions of your memory. You are clearly not well, my boy."

Snape eyed the Headmaster a long moment before beginning significantly, his voice calm and thoughtful, "Have you ever considered the possibility that I was sick before and am well now?"

Taken aback by the question, Dumbledore struggled for a reply. Snape did not allow him time to formulate one and continued, "Think about it, Albus. Is it really _normal_ sounding to you – _me_ in a romantic relationship with Potter?"

"Severus—"

"Quite frankly," Snape interrupted, his voice growing more agitated, "I can't believe you ever allowed this, Albus. It's completely unethical. A professor in some sort of tête-à-tête with a student. It's perverse."

"Nothing about your relationship with Harry was perverse, Severus. In fact—"

"Please," Snape said, half-covering his ears, "I really don't want to hear about this now."

When the elder wizard remained silent, Snape continued kindly, acknowledging the concern that his friend was displaying, "Albus, there's no reason you need to hang around here. You should get some sleep too."

Dumbledore studied Severus for a long moment before responding, "Alright. But before I leave you to your book, Severus, I hope you'll consent to one more examination, this one by me. It won't take but a tick."

Snape eyed Dumbledore somewhat suspiciously before asking, "What sort of examination?"

"Given the strain you were under just before you collapsed, I just want to see that your mental walls are intact. Nothing invasive, I promise," Dumbledore reassured.

"I'm fine, Albus," Snape insisted. "If my walls were down, you'd be the first to know it I'm sure."

"Still, if it's alright with you," Dumbledore said gently, "I'd prefer to see myself."

It took Snape a few seconds, but ultimately he gave a reluctant nod of agreement.

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Determined to gain as much information about Severus's condition as possible, Dumbledore was reading everything he could on the topic of memory. He'd also contacted several of his old colleagues and discretely plied them for information about repressed memory and the circumstances of selective amnesia. But truth be told, there were few, if any, witches or wizards with the knowledge of Occlumency and Psychlimency that Dumbledore possessed. And none that understood Severus's rare capacity to control the organization of his mind or his ability to camouflage memory within the far reaches of his consciousness.

Dumbledore knew that Severus's mental walls had been slipping over the past week since his encounter with Voldemort; at times, he'd been able to hear Severus's thoughts without prompting. Dumbledore believed that Severus had finally lost nearly all control over his mental walls that night on the tower with Harry, and without those walls providing the necessary structure and stability, he'd most likely suffered a mental breakdown.

As a result, Dumbledore was quite surprised by what he'd seen during his examination of Severus's mind in the hospital wing. Although the examination was rather cursory, Severus's mental walls and the overall organization of his mind was nothing like the chaotic mess he'd expected. In fact, on the surface, everything appeared quite stable, with defined order and pattern.

He did not probe deeper, as he had promised Severus he would not, but his superficial entry had left him without the tiniest glimpse of the memories of Harry or his traumatic experiences with Voldemort. In truth, Dumbledore had half-expected to spot them, their misplacement evident immediately to him, even if they were not to Severus.

Dumbledore theorized that the outer order of Severus's mind could quite possibly allow him to retain his amnesia for longer than expected, possibly even upwards of a week. He was certain that the depths of Severus's mind below his main walls were a chaotic mess, his mind warring with its own self, the offending memories trying to come into consciousness once more. He knew without doubt that when that moment came, Severus would fall ill again, perhaps far worse than before. And Dumbledore was determined to be ready to help his friend the moment that happened.

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Just as she'd promised, Pomfrey had released Snape on Saturday afternoon with a pledge that if any of his memories returned, he would notify her and the Headmaster immediately. Dumbledore had checked in on him on Sunday, and his condition and demeanor had remained unchanged. And to the Headmaster's surprise, Severus had insisted on teaching his classes.

With Monday's classes now over, Dumbledore was expecting Harry at any moment, eager for a report on how Severus had handled teaching a class with him in it.

Dumbledore sensed a visitor on his ascending staircase, and a moment later his heavy oak door opened and Harry strode in.

"Have a seat, my boy. How are you?"

"Okay, I guess."

"So tell me, how was Potions?"

"Nothing different," Harry replied dejectedly. "Severus was ignoring me before, and he's ignoring me now."

"Did he seem troubled in any way?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not that I could tell."

"I see. Well, it's only been two days, Harry. As Poppy and I mentioned, it might take some time for him to regain his memories."

"How long exactly?"

"It's hard to say for certain, my boy. A few days, a week maybe. But he will remember, Harry," Dumbledore insisted. "The memories are there; Severus is simply repressing them."

"So he'll get better?"

"Not immediately. It will be complicated."

"Because he'll be sick," Harry said, realizing what Dumbledore meant. "Like he was before?"

"In all likelihood his mind won't let him remember everything at once – which will be fortunate. The memories will start coming back in bits… he may remember your relationship first, with the traumatic events remaining repressed. In fact, it would be better for him if it happens that way. Then I'll be able to help him deal with the memories one by one."

Harry considered this information for a long moment, his expression pensive. When he finally spoke, he did so with conviction. "I want to see him."

Harry sensed Dumbledore's hesitation and added quickly, "Unless you think I'll hurt him." Harry threw his head in his hands and tried to hold back the tears as he said hoarsely, "I caused this, didn't I?"

"No, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "Your presence on the tower certainly didn't help, but Severus was heading for a mental breakdown regardless. I was hoping to get him the help he needed before it happened, but I confess that I did not accurately understand the degree of Severus's turmoil."

"So I shouldn't see him then?"

"Honestly," Dumbledore began, "at the moment, I'm more worried about the damage it would do to you."

"To me? I don't understand," Harry replied in confusion.

"He doesn't remember, Harry. If he appeared disoriented or unwell, it would be easier to accept as a condition of his illness. But he's not. He will not speak to you or respond to you in the way you are accustomed. The Severus you know is gone at the moment. Seeing him now without his memories intact would feel akin to losing him."

"I can't believe this is happening," Harry said, tears filling his eyes.

"It will be alright."

"It will?"

"I promise," Dumbledore reassured.

Harry took a moment to collect himself before continuing, "If it's alright with you, Professor, I'd like to see him anyway. I need to."

Dumbledore studied the young man seated in front of him carefully, admiring his strength, but also questioning his reasoning. He would have to make sure to speak to Severus first, of course, elicit a promise that he be nothing but polite to Harry. And in the back of Dumbledore's mind was a voice telling him that such a meeting might be just the prompting Severus needed to trigger his memories to surface. "Alright then, if he agrees to see you, then of course you may see him, provided I'm right outside the door in case things get out of hand."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"If I might ask, Harry, what is it you want to tell Severus?"

A pause. "That even if he doesn't remember or feel the same way now that he did before, I love him and will wait for him. No matter how long it takes. Please I have to tell him…" Harry could no longer hold back the sobs that wracked his body. Between hiccupping gasps, he barely managed to ask, "Is… that… okay?"

Dumbledore was on his feet in an instant, his arms surrounding the trembling young man. "I think that'll be just fine, my boy."

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_**Author's Note:**_ I worked hard to get this chapter to you all quicker than usual... hope it answers your questions about Severus's amnesia and that you find the concept of Severus's condition (lacunar amnesia complicated with insane occlumency) a stimulating one. Can't wait to hear what everyone thinks.

And I promise that in the next chapter Harry will get to speak with Severus. That didn't quite fit in this one…

Thank you as always to Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui for the beta.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated.


	15. In memory's wake

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake **by** CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 15: In memory's wake**

Four days after Severus Snape had lost his memories, Dumbledore was astounded to find his demeanor as unaffected as ever. He'd survived the weekend and two days of classes without incident. After all that had transpired, Dumbledore was still surprised each time he saw his Potions Master, attending every meal without fail and carrying on his usual snarky conversations with the faculty.

This evening, he'd invited Severus to his quarters for tea. There were several things he needed to discuss with him. When Severus entered, shutting the heavy oak door behind him, Dumbledore beckoned him into the sitting room.

"Thank you for coming, Severus."

"Of course. I never say no to your invitations, Albus," Snape replied, adding genially, "Especially not when there are biscuits at stake."

Dumbledore chuckled. However strange the circumstances might have been, it was nice to see Severus in such good spirits. "They're from the kitchens, Severus. You can get as many as you like."

Snape shook his head in disagreement, amusement in his eyes. "I beg to differ. The ones the elves bake for you are infinitely better. Ask any of the staff; they'll tell you."

"Well, I suppose that's one of the perks of the job then," Dumbledore replied with a smile as his friend reached for a chocolate biscuit and took a big bite.

Snape became aware of Albus's silence and when he looked up, he could see that he was being stared at. "What?" he asked, his mouth full of biscuit.

"It's just so good to see you like this, my boy, even if you're not completely yourself. Tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Fine. I saw Poppy today. She said the same."

"That's reassuring to hear."

"Albus, how long exactly do I have to keep getting these daily check-ups?"

"It's only been four days, Severus. Humor me." A pause. "I take it that none of your memories have returned?"

"No."

"Hmm. How are your classes going?"

Snape took another biscuit. "Fine."

"You had the Gryffindors again today. Did seeing Harry provoke any sort of emotional response?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

Snape nearly choked on his biscuit. "You mean except the usual urge to tell him what an impertinent brat he is?"

"Come now, Severus," Dumbledore reprimanded. "You have better memories of him than that. Besides, the brain is designed to preserve emotionally strong memories. Even amnesiacs, under the right circumstances, can remember their past feelings."

Snape was slightly annoyed by this turn of conversation and thought it best to remain silent.

"Are you having any nightmares?" Dumbledore asked, continuing his line of questioning.

"No. Why? Should I be having nightmares?" Snape asked, then added in jest, "Was my relationship with Mr. Potter worthy of provoking nightmares?"

When Dumbledore did not answer, Snape pressed with growing irritation, "Really, Albus, why don't you just tell me what it is exactly that I've forgotten? This guessing game is growing tedious."

"I'd rather not do that just yet, Severus."

"And why not?"

"There is no way of predicting how your mind will react to the sudden knowledge of what it has buried. The memories might force themselves to the forefront of your consciousness with unforeseen consequences. I think it more prudent to allow your memories to return in their own time, to minimize the risk of damage."

Snape carefully contemplated the Headmaster's words before responding, "But you told me about my relationship with Potter."

"That's quite different, Severus, as you well know." As Dumbledore poured him and his guest fresh cups of tea, he began hesitantly, "There's another reason I asked you here, my boy, other than to inquire about your health and stuff you with biscuits."

"Oh?"

"Harry has expressed an interest in speaking with you."

"What on earth about?" Snape asked in surprise.

"And I think you should speak with him."

"What the hell for?"

"Severus, can't you for one second put yourself in his position?"

When Severus responded only by rolling his eyes, Dumbledore continued, "He is confused about your future."

"Future? There is no future."

"Severus, he is suffering a great deal and I think at the very least you owe it to him to hear him out."

"So I'm the one who suffers some supposed mental breakdown and memory loss and yet I'm asked to deal with an emotionally distraught teenager?" Snape asked irately.

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh. "First of all, I would appreciate it if you could stop referring to those events as 'supposed.' I would never be untruthful with you, Severus, and this issue is no exception. But to your point," Dumbledore continued seriously, "you are absolutely right, my boy. It would be wrong of me to consider Harry's wishes above your own in this situation. It's just that you are so much like your old self it's easy to forget how much you've been affected. If you really cannot bear to see him, then―"

"I can bear it just fine, Albus," Snape said in an affronted tone.

After a long pause, Dumbledore continued, "Then if you wouldn't mind doing me this favor and seeing him, I would appreciate it. Besides, you know very well how Harry can get when he's determined."

Snape groaned at the mental image that provoked. "Will this satisfy his urge to speak with me once and for all? Because if he starts lurking about after class, I won't have it."

"I don't think that will happen if you give him this opportunity, Severus, but I will speak with him."

"Alright then," Snape agreed, after having weighed the possibility of dealing with Harry Potter on his own, "I'll see him if it puts this to rest."

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said in relief. He had yet to figure out how he was going to get Severus to promise to be on his best behavior. But that conversation would have to wait for another time. There were other more pressing matters to discuss.

"Severus, we need to have a serious conversation now."

"For Merlin's sake, this hasn't been serious up until now?" Snape asked in half-astonishment.

"We need to discuss what to do if you are summoned by Voldemort."

"What is there to discuss? I'll go," Snape said simply.

"No. No you will not," Dumbledore said firmly. At his Potions Master's puzzled expression, Dumbledore explained, "Severus, you have lost key memories that Voldemort will expect you to have, including significant events of several meetings. You cannot bluff your way through this, my boy."

"Then just tell me what it is I need to know."

"No. As I said earlier, that puts you at risk for undue injury. Either way, Voldemort may be able to detect your altered mental state. The change in your Occlumency shields alone might perk his curiosity, and that would not be advisable."

"Albus, you do realize what not going back means," Snape said, astounded by Dumbledore's decision.

"Trust me, Severus," Dumbledore responded seriously, "I am quite aware." Both knew that Severus's failure to respond to Voldemort's summons, even once, would mean an end to his role as a spy and the Order losing its most valuable source of insider information of Voldemort and his plans. Despite Dumbledore's reluctance to give up this key strategic element, he was prepared to accept that if it meant keeping Severus safe. And Snape, despite his most fervent desire to directly contribute to that monster's final demise, would obey Dumbledore's directive once it was decided upon.

Each man sat in silent contemplation of what this decision would mean. Finally, Snape spoke. "There has to be a better way."

"I'm afraid there isn't."

A pause. "You know, the last time I was summoned," Snape said pensively, "was a week and a half ago, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well then, unless something of consequence occurs, there's a very small chance I'll be summoned in the next few weeks. He's trying to lay low at the moment and doesn't call that often. This may be a moot point."

"Yes, well, I just wanted to discuss this and make sure we were in agreement."

"I understand."

"Excellent. Would you care for another biscuit?"

Snape didn't have to be asked twice.

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As soon as his classes were over for the day, Harry received a note indicating that he should report to the Headmaster's office. He knew immediately that this was to be his meeting with Severus, arranged as he'd requested by Professor Dumbledore.

The thought of seeing Severus again after all that had transpired made his stomach clench with a combination of eager anticipation and anxious dread. He'd spent most of the night awake, thinking about what he was going to say to Severus, half-wondering if perhaps his presence, his very words might trigger Severus's memories to return. As he walked down the corridor, running over the mental list of thing he wanted to say, he did not see Hermione coming the other way and nearly collided with her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione apologized. "You seem like you're in awful hurry."

"Yeah, I'm going to see Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh. Is everything alright?" Hermione asked, concern creeping into her voice. "You're not having any more dreams are you?"

"No, nothing like that. Everything is fine."

"So listen, Harry," Hermione continued, oblivious to Harry's anxious demeanor, "I've been meaning to ask you this all week, but you've been so hard to track down. When would be a good time to come and see Professor Snape?"

Harry went pale at the mere suggestion. The last thing he needed was for Hermione to know what was going on.

Hermione continued unfazed, "I've been poring over those Runes text he lent me, and I found some things I think he'll find interesting."

"Well, Severus has been sick," Harry supplied weakly.

"I thought he's better now… he's been teaching the past two days, hasn't he?"

"Yeah. Just… now's not a good time, Hermione."

"Oh, okay. I'll just drop by later and return the books to him."

"That's not a good idea, Hermione. I know Severus said you could use his library anytime, but things are… busy right now for him."

"Well can you ask him tonight when would be good for him to speak to me?"

"I don't think now's a good time―"

"But Harry―"

"I said not now!" Harry snapped, his voice rising to a shout.

Hermione visibly startled.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione, things are complicated. I can't talk about it."

Hermione studied Harry for a long moment before saying, "Alright. Well then, just give these back for me then," she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out the three Runes books Snape had given her.

She turned to leave, but a moment later thought better of it and turned around. Her expression was gentle, yet hesitant as she said, "You know, Harry, I just want you to know that I'm always here to listen if you want someone to talk to. And whatever it is that's bothering you, you know I wouldn't tell a soul. I'll see you later."

With that, she walked off down the corridor.

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Dumbledore was pacing about anxiously, wondering how this meeting would impact Severus's demeanor and his memories. He was also concerned about how Harry would fair after speaking with Severus.

"Albus, for Merlin's sake, you're going to wear a hole in the stone floor," Snape admonished.

"You're right, my boy. Ah," Dumbledore said, aware of his staircase activating, "that's Harry now. Now, remember you promised to be nice…"

"Yes, yes, I know, Albus," Snape said in a half-annoyed, half-bored tone, indicating that he'd heard this many times before.

As soon as the oak door to his quarters opened, Dumbledore beckoned Harry to join them in his study. "Come in, Harry," Dumbledore urged, standing when Harry entered. "I'll just be outside in my office if either of you needs me."

Having been rehearsing what he was going to say to Severus for the better part of the day, Harry was dumbfounded to find himself without a clue of what to say at this precise moment. Seeing Severus seated comfortably on the Headmaster's sofa, seemingly without a care in the world was initially quite the jarring image. It brought him back immediately to what things had been like just over a week ago. Only a week ago! After all the events that had transpired, it felt much like a lifetime ago. He and Severus had been so happy. Everything had been nearly perfect. The very thought that Severus had forgotten all those moments was beyond disheartening, it was devastating.

As he studied his lover, Harry realized that what he chose to say and not say in the next few minutes might very well have a profound impact on Severus's memories. And Harry was determined to accomplish his goal for this face-to-face meeting – that whether Severus remembered those times or not, he would walk away knowing that he was loved. And maybe that would be just the notion that would bring all the memories back.

The first words seemed unwilling to leave Harry's mouth. Realizing what he was carrying, he used it to initiate the conversation.

"Oh, before I forget, these are yours," Harry said, holding the Runes texts out for Severus to take.

Snape took them and a quick glance at the titles told him they were from his library. "How did you get these?"

"You loaned them to Hermione," Harry answered simply, deciding it was best not to elaborate.

"To Miss Granger?" Snape asked in clarification, unable to fathom that he would ever do such a thing.

"Yes. You asked her to help you out on a project."

Snape's eyes boggled. "Miss Granger is helping me? On what, pray tell?"

"Something to do with the Pensieve Professor Dumbledore got you." Harry paused a moment and asked carefully, "Do you remember that?"

"Of course I do," Snape answered a little shortly.

"Oh. Well, I don't know the details. You asked her to do some research into interpreting the Runes on the Pensieve."

"And why precisely would I do that?" Snape inquired.

"You told her that you weren't very good at Runes and could use her help."

"Hmm." Snape didn't like the sound of this. Not so much the idea of Hermione Granger lending her opinion on the Runes, but this young man's brashness at assuming that he _needed_ Miss Granger's help. It irritated him.

"Perhaps we should get to the point of this meeting," Snape suggested brusquely.

That was easier said than done, Harry thought. Summoning his courage, his began, "Severus, I just wanted you to know I…" Harry paused to take a deep breath and tried unsuccessfully to ignore Severus's wince at the use of his first name.

The pause was further irritating Snape, who tapped his fingers against his crossed arms. The sign of obvious impatience from his lover caused Harry to sigh.

"Something the matter, Potter?" Snape prodded.

It was Harry's turn to wince at the unwelcome moniker, particularly the tone that accompanied it.

"No," Harry replied, trying to keep his voice neutral, but failing miserably, "it's just been a while since you've been like this with me."

"Hmm." _Get used to it._ That's what he'd wanted to say, but Snape held his tongue.

Harry took a steadying breath, determined to finish his thought. "What I wanted to tell you is that I know you have a lot of things to deal with and that you don't remember a lot, but that… but that I'll be waiting for you for when you're ready. Because I―"

"You'll be waiting forever, Potter," Snape interrupted.

"Please don't say that," Harry said desperately. "You don't remember, I know, but we were together, and―"

"So I'm told," Snape said tersely, "even though as I listen to your sentimental declarations, I find the idea utterly unbelievable. But if it is true, then I must have been out of my mind, or at the very least, drunk when it happened."

Harry did a double take. Was Severus under the impression that this had been an isolated fling between them? Something that had happened after one or both of them had had too much to drink? The very idea cheapened their relationship to a level that Harry could not ignore. When he spoke, he let his irritation at the notion show.

"It wasn't like that! This wasn't a one-off thing. Didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you?"

"He said plenty. I was not really listening," Snape confessed nonchalantly.

"We've been together for over two months," Harry supplied significantly.

Snape's eyes widened at that.

"Well," Harry continued, "longer than that if you consider the time in October. It's complicated, but I'll explain it if you want to know."

The truth of the matter was that Snape was dying to know. How on earth had he and this boy ever become an item? It was so preposterous, the story surrounding it must have been incredible. But the young man's obvious eagerness to relay the tale was enough for Snape to balk at the idea of hearing it.

"What is there to know?" Snape said. "You are an immature 17-year-old that has been the bane of my existence for years, Potter. There is no doubt what happened. I committed an indiscretion, likely fueled by some strange sexual tension that developed during our forced proximity while in our lessons. In all likelihood, the stressful events Albus mentioned were affecting me at the time must have clouded my judgment."

Harry could barely stand to hear another word. He turned his gaze away and tried to conceal the tears forming in his eyes at the tone of Severus's clinical, albeit inaccurate, description.

For his part, Snape couldn't believe Harry Potter was crying in front of him. Once he might of relished the thought, but not at the moment. True, he was aware that he was being a bit of an arse, but he was quite stunned that his words were affecting the boy this way.

"Potter," Snape began tentatively, his voice dropping to a more soothing tone, "I apologize if my words are harsh. I admit that I am not adept at these sorts of things," he said, waving his hands between them. "I am handling this poorly, I realize, and that is wrong of me. I should hear you out, especially given our truce."

Harry's eyes shot up in question.

"I do seem to remember something about a certain lessening of our animosity between us during your lessons," Snape supplied.

"That's right."

Snape studied the floor for a moment, his discomfort palpable to Harry. Slowly, he forced the words out. "I owe you an apology, Mr. Potter. I don't know the particulars, but I assume our involvement was…" he paused, searching for the word, "…well, that we had some involvement. And I am sorry if I, in any way, might have compromised your virtue."

Harry's eyes widened. He didn't know whether to shake with laughter or disbelief. "Are you asking if we've had sex?"

Snape put his hands up immediately. "I don't need to know that," he insisted, making it abundantly clear that he did not want to know if the answer were yes. "I just wanted to express my regrets if I did anything… inappropriate."

Harry was still stunned at the turn this conversation had taken. Of all the things for Severus to be worried about and apologizing for! Despite being acutely aware that Severus did not want to know, Harry was determined to supply the answer, lest it jog his lover's memory. "First of all, yes, we have had sex. Many, many times." Snape winced visibly at that pronouncement, closing his eyes as if in pain. "And second," Harry continued, "you didn't force me. Not at all."

Taking only a moment to recover from his embarrassment, Snape replied stoically, "Well, I suppose that is good to know. I realize you need closure in this matter – Albus explained that to me. Anyhow, in case it may be of concern to you, you are free from whatever arrangement we may have had."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked in confusion.

Snape was loathe to explain, but decided it was best to be clear on this point. "You are free to get yourself a boyfriend, or girlfriend," he amended quickly, muttering under his breath, "whomever it is you might prefer."

Snape was aware that he was being stared at as if he were a creature from the deep. A moment later, the young man responded to him with vehemence in his voice. "I don't want anyone else."

"What? You'd rather have your greasy Potions Master that doesn't even remember you?"

"Yes."

Snape couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. "Oh my," he said a moment later, recovering from the shock, "what on earth have I done to you?"

"I don't understand."

With a smirk tugging at his lips, and unable to resist, Snape said, "I realize that I'm quite adept in bed, but this is ridiculous."

"This isn't about sex," Harry responded immediately.

Snape couldn't quite believe he was actually discussing sex with Potter, but he pushed that thought aside. Not about sex? What else could this possibly be about?

"What the hell else could we possibly have in common, Potter? Not that I can even believe we have ever… been physical," Snape finished after searching for a proper euphemism. "Try to be serious, Potter."

Harry took a deep breath. "I know we're not the most obvious couple. We had to keep our relationship a secret―"

"Obviously."

"It hasn't been easy either, especially since I've basically been living with you and―"

"What? Living with me?" Snape asked in astonishment.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "We were… I mean, we _are_ in love, Severus."

"Love?" Snape choked out. Of all the insane things he'd heard in his lifetime, this one had to top the list. Potter loved him?

"And please don't say I'm confused," Harry said in earnest, "Trust me, you said that for months until you finally believed me."

Snape took a moment to consider the words before responding. Although he wasn't sure he believed Potter's assertion, he was fairly certain that Potter believed it and that was grounds enough to take him seriously. "Alright then, I suppose in that case I do owe you this conversation, and I understand why it is that Albus has asked to me speak with you." Snape paused a moment, searching for the right words. When he next spoke, he did so with great deliberation, "I apologize if your feelings for me were… more substantial than I thought, but that doesn't change matters. In fact, it is all the more reason you should move on – forget about me and find someone your own age and with a fully functioning mind. And I also apologize if I led you on in any way throughout the course of our… relationship," he finished, reluctantly saying that last word.

"You didn't lead me on, Severus," Harry said firmly. "You loved me."

"Potter, I don't think―"

Harry did not let Snape finish. "You told me!" he said fiercely. "You told me that you loved me. This wasn't some fling."

"I _told_ you that I loved you?" Snape asked, his face awash in astonishment.

"Yes. Repeatedly."

"And you believed these words?" Snape asked, obviously trying to process the implications of this.

"Of course I did."

That seemed to sober Snape up at once, his expression growing at once pensive and pained. And Harry was pleased to see it. Perhaps finally, Severus was accepting the truth.

Harry was certainly not expecting Severus's next words.

"I see. It seems that I have not only taken advantage of you physically, but emotionally as well."

It took Harry a moment to understand. "You think you lied to me when you said you loved me?" Harry asked, affronted.

"That is the only reasonable conclusion."

"Do you really believe you'd ever tell such a lie? Or is it that even in this condition, knowing that you've forgotten so many things, that you still can't even imagine loving me?"

"Potter…"

"I told you I was going to be patient with you. That's not going to change, no matter how many hurtful things you say to me."

"You're wasting your time here, Potter. I already informed you that you should…"

"Move on! Yes, I know," Harry snapped, his face getting redder by the minute. He couldn't believe Severus was tossing him aside this way, even if he didn't remember. It wasn't supposed to be like this. "Like I was saying, I'm going to be patient, but do not take back things you said that you don't even remember. You have no idea how you felt… what you'll feel again!"

"Potter," Snape said sternly, "I would suggest you lower your voice this instant."

"No!" Harry shouted. "This is bullshit, Severus…"

"Professor Snape," Snape corrected, having long grown tired of having the impudent young man in front of him address him so familiarly.

"Fine," Harry snapped, "Professor Snape, this is bullshit, SIR!"

"Potter, get control of yourself this instant. Remember to whom you are speaking. I have tolerated enough of this because Albus has demanded that I be nice to you. And I have apologized – which I think is quite magnanimous on my part. Now if we are done with this dreadful conversation, I will be going."

Snape moved to leave the room, but Harry was having none of it. Mustering an inner strength he didn't know he had, he blocked the door. "No. Not until you at least acknowledge that you don't remember what happened and that it's possible that you might still feel the same way once your memories return. I know you don't love me now, but if you remembered, you wouldn't be saying these things. And you certainly wouldn't spit on our future together!"

"There is no future, Potter," Snape said shortly.

"How can you possibly say that?" Harry challenged.

"Potter, I'm trying to be patient here, but―"

"Fuck that! Say what you're thinking for Merlin's sake!" Harry demanded.

"Whatever happened was obviously a mistake…"

"You said you loved me."

"I lied."

The words forced Harry's eyes closed. That hurt. Too much to express. A moment later, he was lashing out again. Reaching inside his robe, Harry pulled the necklace Severus had given him over his head. Anger radiated from him as he spoke.

"Here then. I suppose this was a mistake?" Harry said, thrusting the necklace in Severus's face. "I suppose this was a lie? Or did you just give this to me for kicks? Or maybe just to get me in bed?" Harry paused a moment, giving the words time to sink in. His voice rose to a shout as he continued, "I've got news for you… you didn't need to! I would have had sex with you without it."

Snape's eyes went wide at that declaration, but perhaps more so by what Harry was holding in his hand. He recognized the ruby at once, but wouldn't let himself believe it. He must have been mistaken.

"Is that…?" Snape began, unable to finish the question.

"Yes. It's a piece of your family ring," Harry explained, his eyes welling up with tears. "You had this made for me. You gave it to me…" Harry paused, trying to steady his voice enough to speak. "You gave it to me just before the first time we made love. You said it made me part of your family… that you loved me." The tears were running down Harry's face as he finished in earnest, pouring his emotion out in front of his lover as he held out the amulet once more. "If you want to take that back, then you have to take this back too."

Harry was aware that Severus was staring at him, studying his tear-stained face and the ruby amulet in his hand. What he expected Severus to do then he didn't know, but certainly not what happened next.

"I am sorry, Potter," Snape said flatly, holding out his open hand.

Harry thought his heart might have stopped in that moment. His eyes were trained on Severus's extended hand, unable to believe what he was seeing, what was happening. Instinctively, his fist clenched tighter around the amulet, his body unwilling, unable to let it go.

The moment felt as though it dragged on for an eternity, as Harry held his breath and forced himself to think of what to do. When Severus did not waver, finally, even as he trembled from head to foot, Harry slowly opened his fist and watched the platinum serpent drop out his grasp.

The very next thing he knew he was sprinting out of the study, through Dumbledore's office, ignoring the Headmaster's calls for him to stop.

He ran down the spiral staircase, down the corridor, and finally out the main doors outside into the frigid weather. He kept running until he was too exhausted to move and plopped right down onto the cold ground.

He couldn't wrap his mind around what had just transpired. What was he going to do now? His whole life was Severus and now that was no more.

Everything he'd ever loved had been taken from him – the amulet, Severus. But perhaps worst of all, the entirety of their time together. All that they had shared had been erased, leaving him with nothing in memory's wake.

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_**Author's Note:**_ Hope I've suitably engaged you all and that everyone's still breathing.

Next chapter: Harry and Dumbledore wonder when Severus's memories will return (as i'm sure we all do).

Thank you as always to Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui for the beta.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated.

_**UPDATE NOTICE: I realize it's been some time since i've updated, and for that I apologize. Your patience is appreciated, but please note this story is not and will not be abandoned. Thanks again.**_


	16. If you were yourself

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake **by** CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 16: If you were yourself**

Hermione Granger bustled down the corridor and took the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower two at a time. Having attended dinner just long enough to stash four rolls of crusty bread in her robes, she hurriedly ate one of them on her way to the common room. Deliberately quickening her pace, she pretended to be unaware of the voice calling her with ever increasing volume from down the hall.

When she finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she gave the password and glanced covertly over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I cannot allow you entrance."

"Why not? I gave the correct password," Hermione said quickly.

"Yes you did, but the doorway is locked."

"Locked?" Hermione asked in confusion. "Who locked it?"

"I did," came the terse reply from behind her.

Hermione winced and, accepting her fate, slowly turned around to find her Head of House with a look of obvious displeasure on her face.

"Oh, hello, Professor," Hermione offered weakly.

"Miss Granger, am I to understand that you have not heard me calling you all this time?" McGonagall asked skeptically.

Hermione feigned a sudden epiphany. "Oh! That was you, Professor? I thought that was someone else."

"Oh really? Why don't you tell me why it is that you're skipping dinner, Miss Granger?"

"I just have a lot of homework to do, Professor. I wanted to get an early start."

"Hmm. This doesn't have anything to do with Mr. Potter now, does it?"

This indeed had everything to do with Harry. Hermione took a deep breath and attempted to school her expression.

"No, why would you think that?"

"Perhaps because he's been truant the past two days."

"He's been sick," Hermione lied.

"Then he should be in the hospital wing."

"It's just a cold, Professor."

Harry Potter had skipped his classes on Thursday and Friday, and he had done so without obtaining a medical clearance from Madam Pomfrey. Hogwarts policy dictated that he should at least visit the hospital wing if missing classes due to illness. McGonagall stared at the brunette in front of her, the smartest in her class, and admittedly, her favorite student. Although she didn't quite believe Hermione's story, she decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Tell Mr. Potter that if he is not back in class Monday morning, I will take him forcibly either to the hospital wing or to the Headmaster's office."

"Yes, Professor."

It took Hermione less than a minute to make it up to Boy's dormitory and enter Harry's room. Despite the delay with Professor McGonagall, everyone was still at dinner, which meant that she would have the privacy she desired.

"Harry, it's me."

When no answer came, she repeated, "Harry?"

A moment later, she heard the despondent grumble of acknowledgement.

Hermione pulled open the curtains of the four poster bed to reveal its occupant, whom had not left his bed, save trips to the bathroom, for the past 48 hours.

Harry had said nothing to anyone about his encounter with Severus of two days ago. Instead he'd shut himself behind the heavy curtains and tried desperately to fall asleep, hoping impossibly that when he woke he'd find the last few weeks had all been a dream. But to no avail. The bitter truth was that his lover had not only forgotten him and their relationship, but had unequivocally told him that whatever relationship they may have had was now over.

"I brought you a few rolls from dinner," Hermione said, pulling the bread out of her pockets and placing it next to Harry.

"I'm not hungry."

Hermione sighed deeply before finally saying seriously, and a bit desperately, "Harry, I'm begging you, please tell me what's wrong."

He didn't want to insult her intelligence by lying and telling her it was nothing as he had done with Ron. Besides, given how supportive she'd been of him, she didn't deserve to be lied to. "I can't tell you, 'Mione. Please just leave."

"Does this…" she began hesitantly, but plowed on, "Does this have anything to do with Professor Snape?"

Harry shut his eyes as tightly as he could, struggling to prevent the tears from leaking out of his eyes. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he replied, "Hermione, please go away."

With much reluctance, the brown haired girl did as she was asked, but not before giving her best friend's arm a squeeze.

The moment she was out of sight, Harry closed the curtains around his bed and flopped back down on his back. Placing his hand on his chest, his attention focused immediately on the notable absence of his ruby amulet, the one Severus had given him as a declaration of his love. In a moment of particular stupidity, he had given it back. Words couldn't have expressed how much he regretted that decision now.

The amulet was singularly special, a gift from Severus the night they'd first made love, the very first time Severus had told him he loved him in return. It was laden with a host of powerful protective charms cast by Dumbledore himself, but that was not the reason Harry mourned its loss. That amulet was his only tangible connection to Severus. He had no pictures of them together, of course. Anything like that would have posed too great a risk of being discovered. As it was, other than his memories, he had no proof that he and Severus had ever been together. But, after what had happened with Severus, Harry was grateful that he at least still had his memories.

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Hours after everyone had gone to bed, Harry pulled open the curtains around his bed and made his way out of Gryffindor Tower. He had no specific destination in mind, but after his lethargy over the past two days, he felt the urge to go for a walk.

He took the Marauder's Map with him so that he could avoid any unfortunate run-ins, and he headed directly for the fourth floor corridor. His muscles were stiff from inactivity and it felt good to stretch them. As he turned the corner, he saw the relevant door and entered the room.

It was empty. He didn't honestly believe that Dumbledore would have returned the mirror here, but he didn't think there was any harm in looking. Harry wondered briefly what it was that he would see in the enchanted reflection if he had the chance, what variation of him and Severus together his ultimate desire would take. It didn't matter, he finally realized, as long as they were together.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice from behind him. The feeling of déjà vu was palpable.

"I'm sorry it's no longer here, dear boy."

Harry turned to see the Headmaster taking a few slow steps toward him. Although it was very late, he was dressed in his usual exquisitely colorful robes.

"I didn't think it would be," Harry answered in resignation.

A moment later Dumbledore spoke again. "It's good to see you out of bed, Harry."

Guiltily, Harry's eyes went immediately to the floor. "I'm sorry, sir."

"There's no need to apologize." Dumbledore hesitated a moment before beginning, "Harry―"

"I'll be in class on Monday, Professor," Harry interrupted.

Dumbledore pushed his glasses further up his nose and responded, "Well that is good to know, but please don't think that two days of missed classes on your part is the reason I came to see you tonight. I'm here because I wanted to know why you haven't told your friends about what's happened between you and Severus."

"How do you know I haven't?" Harry asked, somewhat irked by Dumbledore's presumption.

The elder wizard quirked his left eyebrow in answer.

Harry shrugged in defeat, and said not unkindly, "I forgot, you know everything."

"I wish I did, Harry, I wish I did. Unfortunately, rumors of my omnipotence are greatly exaggerated. You know you are always welcome to speak with me, and I hope that you will, but given the incredible stress of this situation I wanted to be sure you know that it is perfectly appropriate and, more than that, it would be advisable if you confided in your friends."

That was the very last thing Harry wanted to do. It would mean admitting what had happened. Admitting _to himself_ that Severus had forgotten him, that this wasn't all some fantastic nightmare.

"I thought maybe I wouldn't have to. I mean… you did say that Severus would get his memories back soon."

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh before answering. "Memory is a very complicated thing, Harry. The mind is far too complex to predict with any accuracy, even in Muggles. But in witches and wizards," Dumbledore said, his voice emphasizing the distinction, "there is a whole new realm of intricacy when magic plays a role in memory. Beyond that, the complexity increases incalculably in those that are proficient in Occlumency. And I'm sure you are aware that Severus is not only proficient in Occlumency, but he is truly a master; he's the second best Occlumens I know."

"Next to Voldemort?"

Dumbledore smiled. "No, next to myself. Voldemort never had the need to become a truly exceptional Occlumens. After all, who was there to test him? Legilimency was where he placed his energies. Another mistake of his. It never occurred to him that anyone would be capable of doing anything more than simply trying to prevent his intrusions; he could never conceive of the power an Occlumens like Severus could wield against him."

Dumbledore paused a moment, visibly troubled as he continued, "The problem now is that Severus is wielding that very power against himself."

Harry dropped his head and muttered, "It's my fault, Professor. I'm the one who…" He couldn't bring himself to finish.

Dumbledore took a step forward and placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, you need to stop blaming yourself. Although I'm sure your encounter with Severus did not help matters, Severus was already heading down a dangerous path long before that night. I offered him help many times, and each time he refused me. There very little else we could do."

"But he will remember again, won't he?"

Dumbledore's immediate impulse was to lie. To say, _of course his memories will return._ To temporize this agony, to save Harry that pain. But he suppressed that urge, reminding himself of the moment a year and a half ago he resolved he'd never do that again.

"I can't say with absolute certainty that he will."

Harry's eyes widened in stunned disbelief. "But… but you said that he would! You said that he'd just buried the memories."

"I know. It was the most likely explanation after his memory loss. But it's now been a week, Harry, and unfortunately that complicates matters a great deal. Severus is clearly doing more than just repressing these memories. They would have resurfaced on their own otherwise. It's almost as though he's obliviated them in a sense, for lack of a better analogy."

Harry stared at the Headmaster in shock, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"It is possible, Harry," Dumbledore continued, "that Severus's mind may not be able to remember. The memories may be too damaged, or his mind may be unable to cope with the effects."

Finally finding his voice, Harry asked tentatively, "Can't you fix this?"

"I'd have to find the memories first and then guide him to find them on his own. But to do that, I'd have to enter Severus's mind. I'm not sure he'd be amenable to that." Noticing Harry's dejected expression, Dumbledore added, "Harry, I'm only telling you this so that you are aware of all the possibilities. I am still confident that Severus will regain his memories. We're just going to have to be patient."

"But you're going to help him, aren't you? You're going to try and make him remember?"

"Harry…"

"Please."

"I will do all I can to help him."

Dumbledore turned and started out of the room. Right before he exited, he stopped and said, "Think about what I said earlier, Harry. You need your friends now. Goodnight, my boy."

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Harry spent a couple more hours sitting on the cold stone floor where Dumbledore had left him. He hadn't quite accepted all that the Headmaster had told him, but he was beginning to realize that things weren't just going to resolve themselves in the next few days either.

When he finally returned to the common room, it was well past three in the morning. To his surprise, he found Hermione asleep on the common room sofa. She stirred awake and met his gaze, a soft sad expression on her face, and Harry realized that she'd been waiting for him. Perhaps Ron had told her of his absence. But why she was there was unimportant.

After a long moment, and to Hermione's utter surprise, Harry said, "There's something I need to tell you."

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Harry felt sick to his stomach. There may have been nothing physically wrong with him, but being back in Potions class was as close to the most painful experience imaginable. It was difficult to put into words, the emotions he felt watching his former lover's behavior toward him now. Of course, no one else noticed anything amiss – Professor Snape was professional, civil, detached, too much so in fact. He hadn't uttered so much as a stern word at Harry the entire class. Months ago, this behavior might have been suspiciously nice. Now it was sheer torture.

The lack of affection from him was palpable and Harry thought if this lasted very much longer he'd go mad. He needed to do something, anything, to spark Severus's memories.

Ron seemed to notice his sullen mood, leaning over to him and whispering, "What's wrong with you, mate? You don't look so good."

"It's nothing."

"Another fight?" Ron asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Ron, shut it!" Hermione interjected angrily, glancing up to make sure Snape was out of earshot.

"I guess this one was a doozie," Ron continued, oblivious to the pain in his best friend's eyes. "I don't know why you even bother."

Harry said nothing, but Hermione could not remain silent. "I swear, Ronald, if you say another word…!"

"Geez, 'Mione, relax… I was only asking."

The rest of class passed without complication, but by the end Harry was desperate to speak with Severus, if only for a moment. Every minute he stood in Severus's presence was another minute that might make his memories begin to creep back into his consciousness. Besides, he missed talking to him. And if he couldn't have the conversation he wanted, at this point, he'd settle for speaking about his homework. Anything to be in the same room with Severus and be noticed.

Once everyone had filed out, Harry stepped towards the front of the room where Snape was writing, without seeming to have noticed Harry standing there. When, after a long minute, his writing did not cease, Harry began politely, "Professor Snape, I don't want to interrupt, but—"

"So don't and get out."

That was far blunter than he'd imagined, but he did not obey. Another minute later, when it became apparent to his Professor that he was not leaving, Harry felt the powerful silencing charm go up around them.

"Just what is it precisely, Mr. Potter," Snape said in his distinctive drawl, "that you think you're doing?"

"I just wanted to talk to you," Harry answered.

Snape stared at him a long moment, as if he were trying to deduce if he was telling the truth. Finally he spoke. "There is nothing else we need to speak about; I believe I have already made that clear to you. Now—"

"But you have to talk to me!" Harry began desperately.

Snape's eyes ignited with sudden hostility. He stood sharply and made his way around the desk until he stood face to face with Harry. His manner and tone brokered no argument as he issued a stern warning, "Listen very carefully, Mr. Potter, because I will not repeat myself. I am not your friend; I am not even friendly. And you certainly have no right to demand anything of me. Don't make that mistake again, or you will be sorry. Now get out of my office before I throw you out."

Harry considered refusing, but decided it was wiser not to push his luck. He exited the classroom feeling dejected. Severus's reaction to him had been so controlled, so devoid of emotion, it was agonizing. There was not even a hint in his demeanor that suggested he may remember their relationship, even subconsciously.

He was so absorbed in his train of thought that as he left the room, he ran straight into Draco Malfoy.

"What are you doing here?" Harry demanded instinctively.

"Me? What about you?" Malfoy retorted. "What are you and Professor Snape talking about that needs a silencing charm?"

Harry did not hesitate; he was well practiced for this type of questioning. "Snape's an arse, you should ask him, you little sneak," Harry huffed angrily. It was funny – the words came out easier than Harry ever thought they would.

Malfoy started to draw his wand, perhaps in response to the slight against his Head of House, but Hermione and Ron were there before he could. "Don't even think about it, Malfoy."

"Here comes your girlfriend and the Weasel to save you, Potter."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron spat.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said, grabbing her friend's arm, "we're going to be late for Charms."

Seeing his friend's disheartened expression, Ron said, "You shouldn't let Malfoy get to you like that, mate."

Harry didn't bother to respond; the last thing on his mind was Malfoy.

He glanced over at Hermione to see if she understood, and her sad eyes said it all.

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Dumbledore tried knocking for the fourth time before he finally decided to enter Severus's quarters. It wasn't like Severus not to answer him, and given Severus's fragile mental state, he needed to make sure he was alright. What if Severus had regained his memories and collapsed?

He poked his head inside and was surprised to see that his Potions Master and friend was not in any distress, but absorbed in a book.

"Severus?"

Snape's head shot up. "Albus!" he said, quickly closing the bound volume he was reading and placing it under some papers he'd been grading.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but I knocked several times and got no answer. I was worried."

"Oh, I must not have heard. Please come in."

Dumbledore did, asking casually, "So what are you up to today?"

"Nothing," Snape said quickly.

"Hmm. It must be quite an interesting nothing for you to feel it necessary to hide it from me," Dumbledore replied with a wink.

Snape considered making up a lie, but knew Albus would see through it. He pulled the journal out from underneath the papers.

"It's Potter's journal," he admitted. "And quite frankly, I cannot believe I'm even reading it."

"You were curious," Dumbledore suggested. After a pause he asked, "Anything interesting in there?"

"This isn't me, Albus," he said forcefully, setting the journal on the table abruptly as if it were toxic. "This must be a fabrication."

Dumbledore took a seat opposite him on the sofa and studied his friend with keen interest. "Why would you say that, Severus?"

"I wouldn't…" Snape paused a moment, trying to think of the right words. "I wouldn't say these things; I certainly wouldn't… do these things," Snape finished, doing his best not to let his embarrassment show.

"Care to share?"

"No," Snape said firmly and a bit too quickly. Desperate for a changing of topic, he remembered his manners. "Would you care for some tea?"

"Thank you, yes."

It took a few minutes for the tea to arrive. Once Dumbledore had prepared his cup with an egregiously large amount of honey, he leaned back and spoke as though the subject were never dropped. "You know, Severus, you did a lot of things you didn't think you would." A pause. "That happens when you're in love."

Dumbledore could see Severus cringe at that pronouncement. But the reply that came was not at all what he expected, not a denial, nor an attempt at redirection, but instead a rare moment of disclosure. "He wasn't lying. I did tell him…" Snape began, his voice the tiniest of whispers, as though he might be overheard. "I told him I loved him. It's…" Snape struggled for the right words. "It's… ridiculous is what it is."

Dumbledore did not miss a beat. "I think it's quite beautiful."

Snape scowled and emitted a frustrated sigh. "What it is, is impossible." He didn't want to discuss this anymore, and he made sure to make it evident in his expression.

Dumbledore leaned forward and deliberately set down his cup. "Let me ask you something, Severus. Are you trying to retrieve your memories?"

"Whatever for?" Snape asked.

"Ah, so you're actively avoiding it then?"

"That's absurd," Snape scoffed. "I simply meant that I've tried before and there's no point looking for something that's not there. Not that I really want to remember any of this," Snape muttered as he gestured towards the journal.

A quirk of an eyebrow from Dumbledore told Snape that the Headmaster was not convinced. "What? You don't believe me?"

"It's been over a week since you lost your memories, Severus. I was sure you'd have begun to recover at least some of them by now. Have you tried accessing beyond your outermost shields?"

"Of course I have," Snape said petulantly. "What do you take me for?"

"Would you mind, my boy, if _I_ looked?" Dumbledore could detect the slight shiver of panic from Severus at that suggestion. It was no small favor he was asking for, and it required a great deal of trust on Severus's part to allow him such access. "Not very deep, of course, and I'd leave the memories undisturbed. Just enough to glean some hints as to where they might be."

Severus carefully weighed the question in his mind. "Only if you promise that this will be the last time. I don't want to keep having this conversation for the next ten years."

Ah, so they were to bargain then. "Agreed." Dumbledore could sense his friend's anxiety and he was sympathetic. It said mountains about their friendship that Severus was willing to allow him this.

A moment later, an unnerved Severus asked, "How do you want to do this exactly?"

"Focus on the fire," Dumbledore said softly, "and whenever you're ready drop your outer shields. I promise to be quick."

Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for this invasion. He thought he must have been insane to allow this, but then again, he knew he could never refuse Albus anything for very long. Might as well get this over with.

Dumbledore could see Severus's nerves. "Severus…" When the younger wizard looked at him, he continued gently, "The reason I'm doing this is because I care about you, my boy. You do know that, don't you?"

It took a moment, but Snape finally nodded in reply.

Dumbledore smiled. "Alright then, whenever you're ready."

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Like clockwork, and to Dumbledore's consternation, Harry was at his door that very evening. He dreaded the prospect of telling Harry what he'd found, and he hoped fervently, albeit unrealistically, that it didn't come up.

"How is he?"

"Barring the fact that he hasn't recovered his memories, he seems to be doing very well."

Harry sighed. Somehow that didn't make him feel very much better. And in the next moment he felt guilty for thinking that. He voiced his thoughts. "I should be glad that he's okay," he said, almost to himself. "He was in such a bad state before and all I can think about is that he's forgotten me."

"Harry, it's perfectly natural to feel as you do. You're not expected to be selfless; this is affecting you too."

"I took your advice, Professor, and told Hermione what happened."

"I'm glad to hear it, my boy. It's important you have the support of your friends."

And then, just as Dumbledore thought he might, Harry asked the dreaded question. "So I take it he didn't let you look for the memories?"

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh. "Actually, he did."

"He did?!" Harry said excitedly. "That's great. You can help him find his memories now!"

"Harry…" Dumbledore said gently, "unfortunately, I couldn't find them either."

"What? I don't understand."

"It seems that Severus has buried these memories deep in his psyche, so much so that I saw no evidence of them." It was more than that, Dumbledore thought. He'd been shocked to see the organization of Severus's mind. Immaculate. Not a single thread out of place. Not even a minute sign of a disturbance. Dumbledore felt certain he would have detected some hint of disorder.

"So what does that mean?"

Dumbledore met Harry's gaze, his bright green eyes looking to him for the answer, and answer he did not have.

"I'm not precisely sure; I'm still hoping to find some clues in some very old Psychlimency texts I'm studying. But what I do know, Harry, is that I can't find Severus's memories for him. It would be dangerous to delve very much deeper inside anyone's mind without more information. We will just have to wait for Severus to regain his memories on his own time."

Harry dropped his head in his hands. Holding back tears, he wondered how much longer he would have to wait.

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It was perhaps the worst Potions lesson of his life, and that was saying something.

But here he was, just shy of two weeks from his encounter with Severus on the Astronomy Tower. After Severus had regained consciousness in the hospital wing, and his memory loss had been revealed, Dumbledore had warned him that this would be harder on him. Harry remembered scoffing at the notion. Severus was the one with memory loss and post traumatic stress; he was the one suffering. Or so it was supposed to be. It wasn't.

Snape was in usual form and Harry was depressed beyond measure. And desperate to boot. His mind seized on the fact that Dumbledore had not dissuaded him from speaking with Severus since his memory loss first occurred. The Headmaster had even seemed to think that their encounters might trigger Severus's memories to return.

And even though Professor Snape had told him in no uncertain terms last class that he was not to attempt to engage him in conversation, Harry Potter was not one to follow the rules, especially ones he didn't agree with.

Snape held back his sigh of frustration when he saw Potter dawdling once more as he packed up his books. When the last student had left the classroom, he noticed that the young man immediately cast a warding and silencing charm. He schooled his patience and did his best not to overreact. The last thing he needed was Dumbledore giving him lectures on professionalism.

"Mr. Potter, I thought I made it perfectly clear to you that I do not wish to speak with you. Now unless you have a legitimate question about Potions, although I cannot imagine why it would require a silencing spell, I'll ask you to leave."

Realizing he had not planned on what to say, Harry quickly formed an idea in his mind. "I wanted to talk to you about resuming my lessons."

Snape's eyes widened and he quirked his head to the side. He hadn't been expecting that. "Out of the question," he replied calmly.

"Why?" Harry asked, deciding to continue with the conversation. At least Severus was speaking with him! "You were tutoring me before in Occlumency and Defense. Don't you think we should continue?"

Snape spotted the catch. To say no would imply he didn't feel comfortable tutoring Potter, to say yes would play right into Potter's hands. "I'll speak with the Headmaster about it. But if you're so serious," Snape continued slyly, "you may begin by writing 20 feet of parchment on your current proficiencies in these topics, your existing weaknesses, and how you to plan to rectify them."

"20 feet?" Harry asked, pretending to sound overwhelmed, but secretly he was thrilled to pieces by the prospect that Severus was actually considering his request.

"Anything else is not adequate and would tell me at once that you are not serious."

"I'm serious," Harry declared resolutely. Suddenly realizing an opportunity, he added, "Why else would I want to continue lessons after having Unforgivables thrown at me?"

Snape brow wrinkled in confusion and Harry pressed on, "Remember when you cast those Unforgivables at me that time?"

"What are you on about?" Snape asked with dismissive irritation. "However appealing that may sound, Dumbledore would never allow it."

"But he did. And you cast them. Don't you remember? I cast the Cruciatus back."

Snape was well aware of what Potter was doing, but he had to admit, his curiosity had been piqued. "You cast the Cruciatus at me?" he asked, almost laughing at the notion. "Were you successful?

"Uhmm… well, not the first time," Harry replied sheepishly.

Snape's eyes widened. "The first time?" he asked in surprise.

Harry was in heaven. Severus was speaking with him and he was determined to draw this out as long as possible. "Yeah, the first time you sort of fell back a bit, and then you laughed at me."

"Sounds like something I might do," Snape drawled with some amusement.

"And then you dared me to do it again, but this time to mean it," Harry said, his eyes alive with the memory of that night.

"And did you, Potter?" Snape asked in a silky whisper. "Did you _mean_ it?"

Harry's knees nearly buckled at the tone of Severus's words. It was as close to sexy as he'd heard from the man in weeks. He felt his heart begin to beat more rapidly in his chest.

"Yes," Harry whispered. "I thought…" Harry paused and took a deep breath. "I thought you'd be angry with me, but you weren't. You were proud."

Snape knew he was going to regret asking this, but he couldn't stop himself. "And what exactly was it that precipitated all of this?"

"I asked you to teach me the defense against Vol…" Harry stopped. "Sorry. Against You Know Who."

Snape snorted, half-amused, half-irritated with the notion.

Harry smiled. "That's exactly what you said. And you told me there was no defense. I just needed to be prepared." Harry paused and collected his thoughts. "That's what you've been teaching me in my lessons. Do you remember that? Do you remember me casting that Cruciatus on you?"

"No I do not, and as entertaining as this story time has been, Mr. Potter, I think you should be going," Snape said shortly.

"You cast it at me first. Don't you remember that? And then—"

"Potter!" Snape snapped in annoyance. "I'm not interested in playing your little memory games."

"But—"

"Enough! I see that this is all that you had in mind when you requested lessons," Snape said sharply. "I should have known better. Now get out."

"But, Severus…" Harry stopped, knowing instantly he'd made a very big mistake.

The transformation in Snape's countenance was instantaneous. He looked as though he were going to explode, his nostrils flaring, his eyes wide and angry. Yet his body remained still. "Two weeks detention starting this Saturday, Potter." Snape must have caught the hopeful gleam in his eye and squashed it immediately when he added, "…with Filch."

It was an excessive punishment no doubt, but Snape didn't care.

"Now, if you _ever_ call me by my given name again, in any setting, I will not be so lenient again."

Harry swallowed roughly, trying to clear his throat enough to apologize. But he did not get the chance. Before Harry could utter a word, Severus was gone.

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Snape made his way to Dumbledore's quarters directly after his meeting with Potter. He couldn't help but smirk when he thought of it – two weeks with Filch was enough to make anyone regret being born.

As he entered Dumbledore's office, he found the Headmaster deep in thought. Papers were strewn about, and Snape surmised that he'd been reading his mail. He did not look well.

"You called for me, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore shook himself from his thoughts and looked up slowly to see his friend standing in his outer office. "Yes, Severus. Will you please join me in the sitting room?"

Snape nodded and after a moment, followed. It was rare to see Dumbledore looking so solemn and Snape couldn't help but wonder what was wrong. They sat and Dumbledore went straight to business.

"I have an important favor to ask of you, Severus."

"Alright."

"It is of a personal nature." A pause. "I need you to brew some potions for me."

A pang of concern flared in Snape's chest. "Whatever you need, Albus." He held his breath as Dumbledore handed him a piece of parchment containing a list of considerable length.

Snape's eyebrows went up as he glanced over it; he knew instantly that these potions were not for the Headmaster. He wanted to ask whom they were for, but did not. The list contained very powerful potions, ranging from sedatives to antipsychotics.

Dumbledore did not leave Snape wondering for long. "They are for a very close friend. I cannot say any more."

_A friend in St. Mungo's no doubt_, Snape thought. Studying the list once more, he took in its complexity. He'd brewed less than half of these potions before, either because they were archaic, illegal or both.

"You do know that many of these are Ministry-restricted?" Snape asked carefully.

"Does that pose a problem?" Dumbledore asked, already aware of the answer.

"No," Snape replied easily. "But the list is complicated, Albus. It will take time, and many of these will require very exotic ingredients."

"I understand," Dumbledore replied. "Withdraw whatever funds you need from my account. And please make sure you spare no expense when it comes to quality. I'll compensate you for your time as well, of course."

"There's no need for that," Snape insisted.

"I appreciate this, my boy."

"Of course," Snape said with a bow of his head. "I hope your friend recovers soon."

"So do I, Severus," Dumbledore said sadly. A moment later he asked, "And how are you feeling, my boy?"

"Me?" Snape asked with wide eyes, unable to believe that Dumbledore was even asking about him when his friend was so ill. "I'm fine. Are _you_ okay, Albus?"

Dumbledore attempted a smile. "I'm alright."

Snape tried to be comforting. "Would you like some tea?"

"That sounds wonderful."

A few minutes later as the tea was being prepared, the door to Dumbledore's quarters swung open and Harry Potter entered. He caught a glimpse of the Headmaster in his sitting room and took the stairs towards it. "Professor!" he called out.

Dumbledore could see the rage immediately bubble in Severus's eyes. His Potions Master shot from his chair in a flash. As soon as Harry stepped into the room, he was confronted by his livid former lover.

"Why you immature little tattletale! It's not ten minutes since you received your punishment and you're already complaining to the Headmaster about it?! If you think you're going to get out of it—"

"Severus!" Dumbledore interrupted sharply.

Snape's gaze swung towards the Headmaster.

"I asked Harry to stop by this evening. He's not here to complain about a detention."

"That's not bloody likely," Snape muttered.

Dumbledore could see that Harry looked on the verge of tears. "Harry," Dumbledore said gently, "perhaps we could postpone our meeting until tomorrow?"

Harry managed a nod. He looked for a moment that he was going to say something, but refrained and left without a word.

Dumbledore was aware that Severus was still muttering epitaphs under his breath, fuming about Harry's appearance a moment ago.

"Severus, what the devil is wrong with you?"

"With me?" he asked enraged. "What about him?"

"What about him?"

"He's following me everywhere! Begging to speak with me. He's driving me nuts!"

"He's a confused teenager and he's acting like it," Dumbledore responded calmly. "What about the way you're acting?"

"Me?"

"Your reaction was excessive and you know it," Dumbledore chided. "I won't ask you to change his punishment, Severus, but—"

"Headmaster, you have no business interfering—"

"I just said I won't ask you to change his punishment, but I would ask you to reconsider the severity of it. Two weeks worth of detentions for a simple slip of the tongue—"

"It was not a slip!" Snape fumed. "He did it deliberately, I know he did."

Dumbledore sighed. "Regardless, two weeks is excessive. It will only adversely impact Harry's studies and it will not change how he feels about you."

"Never underestimate how much scrubbing toilets can influence someone so young."

"Or inspire the right amount of hatred?" Dumbledore asked astutely. "Is that what you're trying to do, Severus? Make him hate you?"

"You're constantly saying the two are not far off. Besides, Potter already hates me; he just doesn't know it."

"Severus, you're giving me a neck cramp. Will you please sit down?"

Snape took his seat once more. Dumbledore eyed his friend for a long moment before beginning, "I am very worried about you, my boy."

"Me? Whatever for? I'm fine."

"You are overreacting to him. This is obviously affecting you. Your excessive punishment indicates that. Tell me why his using your first name upset you so?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Let's not start this. And I don't appreciate you trying to psychoanalyze me."

"I'm doing nothing of the sort. I'm trying to get you to talk to me, about this, about everything. You must be feeling confused about this memory loss…"

"I was fine until Potter started showing up every ten minutes. I just want to be left alone and let everything go back to normal."

"But things aren't normal, Severus. That's why you need to talk. Not just about this incident, about everything." A pause. "You could talk to me."

Snape snorted his disdain at that idea. "When hell freezes over."

Dumbledore's eyebrows went up. "That must be your new favorite expression. You used it on me recently, Severus. Do you remember that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Snape replied curtly.

Dumbledore took a moment to consider the situation. "Alright, Severus, hear me out. You had very strong feelings for Harry. It's possible that you're subconsciously beginning to remember these feelings, and that in order to suppress them, you're treating him with greater disdain than usual."

"What the hell kind of crackpot theory is that?" Snape snapped.

"Even when the two of you were at your most contentious some years ago, you would not have given him two weeks detention with Argus for minor disrespect. Admit it."

"Why does it feel like you're playing matchmaker?" Snape asked irately.

"I'm sorry if it seems that way. I assure you, I am not. You two found each other. I am merely advocating…"

"Figures," Snape interrupted angrily, standing from his chair. "You would be on his side. Always Potter, Potter, Potter."

"You misunderstand me, Severus," Dumbledore said earnestly, "I'm advocating for you."

"For me?" Snape asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, nodding his head. "Believe me, my boy, if you were yourself, you'd want me to."

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_**Author's note:**_ First I'd like to apologize to everyone for the very long delay since my last update. My life has been insanely busy these past months and continues to be so. But I made some time over the holidays to write and the result is my longest chapter to date. I know you have all been very patient, but your continued patience is much appreciated.

Thank you for your kind reviews and PMs. I continue to be overwhelmed.

Hugs as always to Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui for the beta.

I look forward to your comments on this chapter.


	17. Up in flames

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake **by** CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 17: Up in flames**

It had gone horribly wrong from the beginning. Slytherin had gained the upper hand with a rapid fire goal in the very first minute of the match and Gryffindor had never recovered. With no guidance from the Gryffindor captain, who seemed completely uninterested in the proceedings as he flew around the pitch, a few more goals were scored against them. The crowd seemed undeterred, however, certain that the star Seeker would pull out a spectacular finish as he'd done on so many occasions before. But not this time.

Harry may have been the team's star and its captain, but his heart wasn't in the game. He'd barely made an effort to catch the snitch, and had in fact accidentally alerted the other seeker to its position such that, a few moments later, the game was over and the Slytherin team had captured victory.

Now in the locker room, nearly all the boys had showered and left. Harry sat on the bench, unmoving, lost in thought.

His best friend did his best to console him, but for all the wrong reasons. "It happens, mate. We'll have better luck next time."

When Harry did not respond, Ron continued, "It doesn't matter anyway. We're already in the finals this year and all that. It just sucks losing to that lot, is all."

Harry looked up slowly and eyed his friend very carefully before he said, "I'm quitting the team."

"What?" Ron asked in astonishment. "It was one bad game, Harry!"

"It's not that. I just…" Harry sighed. He felt defeated. He couldn't explain his reason, not to Ron anyway. The simple fact was that he didn't care about Quidditch. He didn't care about anything anymore. "I don't want to play anymore, Ron. I'm just… tired."

"Is this because of those long detentions with Filch?" Ron asked, taking Harry literally. "I'm sure McGonagall can sort that out. Hey… wait a minute. Why did Snape give you those detentions anyway? I don't get it. Did—"

A rustle of fabric caught Harry's attention and his ears perked up. He quickly interrupted in a whisper, "Shh, I think someone's there."

Harry stood and made his way toward the locker room exit. As he turned the corner, he came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"Watch it, Potter," Malfoy snapped.

"What are you doing?"

"I forgot my gloves," Malfoy said, gesturing towards the bench. Harry glanced over and saw Malfoy's gloves there. "Is that a problem? Sorry to interrupt your pity party. But you really were pitiful out there today."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron threatened.

"Let's go, Ron," Harry said, diffusing the situation. He wasn't in the mood for an altercation.

They exited into the side of the stadium and saw Hermione waiting for them. "That was a good effort, Harry," Hermione said consolingly. "You too, Ron."

"I'm quitting the team, 'Mione," Harry said, without preamble.

"No he's not," Ron said at once. "Harry, you just need to relax. Tomorrow's Hogsmeade. We'll load up on sweets; that'll change your mind."

"I'm not going."

"What? Why not?"

"Dumbledore said it's not safe."

"When was this?" Ron asked in dubious surprise.

"Yesterday," Harry answered flatly. "He told me no more Hogsmeade for now." Since Severus was no longer able to check in periodically with Voldemort, the Headmaster had felt it prudent that Harry remain on the grounds. On the slim chance that a Death Eater raid was planned, the Order would have no foreknowledge to that effect. Harry hadn't even argued with the Headmaster. He didn't want to go anyway.

"And since when do you listen to Dumbledore?" Ron asked impatiently. "You can sneak out."

"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded. "This is Harry's safety we're talking about."

"But everyone else is going."

"Harry's not everyone else."

Ron looked annoyed. "Okay, fine. Forget Hogsmeade, but you can't be serious about Quidditch…"

Ron started in on him, about how valuable he was to the team, about how they couldn't go on without him. Hermione could tell that Harry wasn't listening. Neither was she.

Over the past few days, her concerns for Harry had grown. He was tuning out, out of his classes, away from his friends, now out of Quidditch, out of life. She'd been watching him carefully at meals and noticed that he barely touched his food these days. If she didn't know better, she might have suspected that he had fabricated Dumbledore's instructions not to go to Hogsmeade just so that he could avoid having to socialize. Even though she knew he was being truthful, it was one more way for him to disconnect from his friends and from her.

Ron finally noticed that he didn't have his friend's attention. "Harry, are you listening to me?"

Harry looked up and said, "I've got a detention to serve," and he walked off.

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Ron returned from Hogsmeade with three bags of sweets. Hermione had stayed behind with Harry in the common room, trying her best to cheer him up, but failing miserably as he'd done nothing but stare at the ceiling while she did her homework.

Ron spent nearly an hour regaling Harry and Hermione with the details, all of them old news and none of them the slightest bit of interest to either of them. But towards the end, something did catch Harry's attention.

"...and then McGonagall drank the whole pint! I couldn't believe it. Everyone clapped. Even Snape!"

Hermione caught the detail as well. "Professor Snape was there? Was he chaperoning?"

"No. He was just at the bar, having a drink. I'm surprised you didn't want to go."

"He was at the bar? Alone?" Harry asked. That didn't sound like Severus – going out for drinks.

"Don't know. Why?"

Today was two weeks to the day that Severus had lost his memories. Harry's emotions had been through the ringer, and this was yet another twist of the knife as the strangest thought occurred to him. Severus had ended their relationship. If he so chose, he could be meeting someone for drinks at Hogsmeade this very moment. While Harry didn't actually believe that that was why Severus had been in Hogsmeade, the realization that there was nothing from stopping Severus from satisfying his needs, his sexual needs, was a stab in the heart.

"So listen, Harry," Ron interjected, "about Quidditch. You were just kidding yesterday, right?"

"No. I'm quitting, Ron."

Ron bolted up from the sofa and huffed angrily, "I can't believe you! This is about him again, isn't it? You want to quit so you can spend more time with Snape…"

"Ron, shut up!" Hermione growled.

"That's not it, Ron," Harry said neutrally.

"Tell me what it is then."

Harry took a deep breath and considered whether or not he should tell Ron. Before he'd even thought the matter through, the truth came spilling out of him. Not as it had done with Hermione, when he'd needed to tell her, needed someone to confide in. He just wanted Ron to leave him alone, and he knew that he'd end up having this conversation eventually.

Thinking hard about how he could explain this without violating Severus's privacy, Harry said simply, "Voldemort messed with Severus's mind and so he's forgotten everything."

A moment. "What do you mean everything?"

"He's basically forgotten the last eight months," Harry explained.

"For real?" Ron asked in surprise. A beat. "So he won't remember that I haven't done any of my homework then?"

"Ron, this is serious!" Hermione interjected.

"Okay. I'm just not sure what you expect me to say here. His memory is going to come back, right?"

"Of course it will. But it's been two weeks and I just thought you should know."

"So what does this have to do with you quitting Quidditch?" Ron asked brazenly.

Harry stared at his friend, wondering if he was being deliberately insensitive or simply dense.

Hermione chimed in, "Ron, Professor Snape doesn't remember that he and Harry were ever together. Harry's under a great deal of stress and he needs to take it easy for a while."

"So then you and Snape are not together anymore?"

"Not for right now. He needs time for his memory to come back," Harry replied.

Ron studied his friend carefully and then glanced over at Hermione. After a moment he said. "I get it. Snape dumped you."

"He didn't dump me, Ron," Harry responded indignantly. "He lost his memories."

Ron scoffed in disbelief, and spoke reproachfully, "I warned you this was going to happen."

"Oh, so this is 'I told you so,' is that it?" Harry snapped.

"No, just… I don't get why you're quitting Quidditch because he dumped… I mean because he lost his memories. You can't let him ruin your life, mate. There are plenty of other guys out there."

"I don't want anyone else," Harry responded instinctively, stunned by Ron's obtuseness.

"What is it exactly you want me to say?" Ron asked in frustration.

"Maybe 'I'm sorry,'" Harry began angrily. "Maybe you could express one ounce of sympathy."

"I am sorry," Ron said irately. "I'm sorry he's treating you like shit and you feel bad for him!"

"He's confused. Dumbledore said he's not himself."

"There you go making excuses for him."

"I'm sorry I even told you," Harry said crossly. With that he got up and started up the stairs towards his room.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione called after him, but he did not respond. When Harry was gone, she turned on Ron. "You are an insensitive git. Don't you even care that Harry's in pain?"

"Better now than later."

"What does that mean?"

"It's only been a couple of months. Better that he dumped him now than in a year or two."

"Ron, I don't think you understand."

"No, 'Mione. If I don't understand, then how come I was right? I told you this would happen," Ron said pointedly. "That Snape would break his heart. You didn't listen. You told me that Snape was 'so nice' and 'so good for Harry,'" Ron continued, imitating Hermione's voice. "And you said that I didn't understand him. Who was wrong, eh?"

"Ron, he didn't break up with him. He forgot they ever had a relationship. There's a difference."

"Then why's being such an arse to Harry?"

"Ron, it's complicated," Hermione sighed in resignation.

"No it's not," Ron said vehemently. "Snape's always been an arse and that's how he's acting. There's nothing complicated about that."

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At dinner, Harry made it a point to avoid sitting anywhere near Ron. Hermione was ever faithfully by his side, prodding him to eat.

"Ron's just being a git, Harry. Ignore him."

"I know."

"Here have some bread," Hermione said, offering him a piece slathered in creamy butter, the way he normally liked it.

"I'm not hungry."

She sighed. "I think you should go and see Dumbledore."

"What for? He's got enough to worry about and there's nothing he can do."

"You need someone to talk to."

"I can talk to you."

"Then why won't you?"

"What is there to say?" Harry asked in resignation.

Hermione made sure to catch his eye before saying gently, "As long as you know that I'm here to listen."

Harry's silence fueled Hermione's concern. She watched as he pushed his plate of untouched food away from him. An hour later, she was in the hospital wing.

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"So, Miss Granger," Madame Pomfrey asked, "what seems to be the problem?"

"I'm really depressed," Hermione offered matter-of-factly, but quickly realized her error. She would need to do better if she was going to be convincing.

"What's the matter, dear?"

Quickly, Hermione threw her face in her hands and started to sniffle. Refusing to meet Pomfrey's eyes she said in a tentative voice, "I… it's my parents… they… they're getting a divorce."

"Oh. I'm so sorry, my dear. You do know that this isn't your fault?"

Hermione pretended to get control of herself and still look haggard at the same time. "I suppose so. But it's so horrible; they're putting me in the middle and I feel like I can't talk to anyone about it. Ron and Harry just wouldn't understand. I just can't stop thinking about it."

"Is this affecting your school work?"

Hermione panicked for a moment, lest Pomfrey check with her instructors. "Well, it's starting to. I've been pretty good up until now, but I can't focus anymore and I'm not sleeping and I'm barely eating." She tried to recall Harry's other symptoms, then added, "All I want to do is lie in bed by myself in the dark."

"Miss Granger," Pomfrey began seriously, "have you had any thoughts about harming yourself?"

"Uhmm, no, I don't think so," she answered tentatively.

"What do you mean you don't think so?" Pomfrey asked with no small amount of alarm.

"I mean no," Hermione said firmly. "I'll be okay, but I just wondered if you had something I could take… you know for sleep and maybe to get my appetite back. And maybe also something like a Muggle antidepressant?"

"Well let me scan you and we'll see."

"Oh." Hermione was not expecting this. As Pomfrey started running her wand up and down in front of her, she hoped that she wouldn't be discovered.

A minute later, Pomfrey spoke, "I'm not detecting any malnourishment."

"Well, it's only just started. I just found out about the divorce. I know it's going to get much worse. If you knew my parents, you'd understand. They're… crazy."

Pomfrey seemed to deliberate that a moment before relenting. After all, she had no reason to suspect Hermione of lying. "Alright. I'll give you a relaxation potion. Take two drops before you go to bed and another two in the morning. It should help with the sleep and the appetite issues. As for something to calm your mood, I'll ask Professor Snape to brew something for you."

"What? No! You can't tell him!"

"Professor Snape brews all my potions, dear. Don't worry; he won't know whom it's for."

"Oh, okay."

"Miss Granger, I also think you should speak with someone. I can arrange it for you."

"Uhmm, maybe I'll get back to you on that."

An hour later she'd managed to convince Harry to start taking the potion. Initially he was livid at the prospect that she'd gone to Pomfrey about his problems, but as soon as she'd explained her lie, he'd calmed down.

"She said the potion was dosed by weight, so the dosage should be about the same. And she's… ordering something more permanent too." She refrained from calling it an antidepressant and especially from mentioning that it was Snape who would be brewing it. She was just relieved that Harry had finally agreed to take something before his health began to decline further.

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Harry needed a plan; he needed some way to fix this. It had become clear to him that Dumbledore certainly had no idea how to resolve this problem. When Severus had first lost his memory, the Headmaster had said it would be a day or two at most before he recovered his memories. Then two days turned into a few days, and then into a week. Now it was more than two weeks. Exactly how long was this supposed to last?

At this point, Harry didn't care if it meant getting more detentions. He had to try something. Anything was better than this. If he thought being ignored by Snape in Potions was bad, this was agony. Snape had left him alone for barely a minute, badgering him constantly, pointing out his ignorance of the material, and taunting him relentlessly for the amusement of his Slytherins.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, for not paying attention. Don't make me repeat myself again. What is the primary ingredient in sleeping draughts?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Shocking," Snape drawled. "Did you even bother reading the assignment?"

He hadn't even opened the book. "Yes, sir."

"That'll be fifty points for lying to me."

A groan from the Gryffindors. They were not happy with him. He'd single-handedly managed to lose them half the house's points in the last two days alone.

With a gleam so wicked in his eye it was almost perverse, Snape continued, "And in addition I expect an essay on sleeping draughts no less than five sheets of parchment delivered to me by tomorrow's class or it will be a double detention with Filch this Saturday."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered mechanically.

"I suggest you apply yourself, Potter. Judging from your performance this Sunday, I doubt even the Chudley Cannons will be calling you for tryouts," Snape said, pausing for effect as his Slytherins hooted and snickered at the taunt about the Quidditch game. "Dismal as they are, I suspect their standards exceed the limits of even your _celebrity,_" Snape finished, annunciating the last word with excruciating precision, delivering that final cruel kick in the gut.

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At dinner that evening, Professor McGonagall was in a horrible mood. She'd entered the Great Hall late and when she took her seat to the left of the Headmaster, she immediately demanded his attention. "Mr. Potter came to see me today."

Dumbledore could feel Severus tense next to him, and could see that he was clutching his fork very tightly. Interesting, he thought to himself. Even the mere mention of Harry was enough to set him off. Either that, or something else had happened between them in class.

"He told me the most preposterous thing!" McGonagall exclaimed.

Snape dropped his fork.

McGonagall glanced his way and then back at Dumbledore.

"What is it, Minerva?"

"He's quitting the Quidditch team! Can you believe it?"

Dumbledore hazarded a glance to his right and noticed that Severus had resumed eating, with no evidence of his previous tension on his countenance.

"I told him that I would not accept without an explanation. But he refused to give me one. Do you know what is going on, Albus?"

"The faculty meeting is in an hour, Minerva. Finish your dinner and I'll meet you there a bit before. Right now, I have something to take care of."

"Very well."

Instead of leaving the table as McGonagall expected the Headmaster to do, Dumbledore turned his attention to his dessert.

Meanwhile at the Gryffindor table, Hermione was frustrated by the small portion on Harry's plate. She was about to encourage him to have another helping of mashed potatoes when she heard a familiar voice in her mind.

_'Excuse the intrusion, Miss Granger, but could I impose on you to meet me in my office in five minutes?'_

"Uhmm," Hermione said aloud, glancing up at the Head table.

"Are you alright, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

_'You need not say anything, Miss Granger. I can hear your answer.'_

"I'm fine," Hermione responded to Ron, disorientated by her unusual conversation with the Headmaster. "I have to go."

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Precisely three minutes later, Hermione was standing before the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. Before she could even wonder what she was supposed to do, the gargoyle swung aside and she stepped forward onto the revolving staircase.

Hermione had never been inside the Headmaster quarters before and found herself caught somewhere between overwhelmed and awed by the whole experience. From the moment she entered, every silver instrument was a joy and thousands of questions sparked in her mind. It was fantastic. As she struggled to stay grounded, the Headmaster's voice summoned her immediately back to earth with the anxiety about why she was here.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Granger. Would you join me in the sitting room?"

She followed him mutely up the dais towards the sitting room and took the proffered seat on the Headmaster's red sofa.

"Would you care for some tea?" Dumbledore asked.

"Thank you, sir."

Barely a moment later, a plate of biscuits appeared in front of her along with a pot of tea. Dumbledore poured for her and asked. "How are you, my dear?"

"I'm fine, sir."

"Hmm, Poppy doesn't seem to think so. She contacted your parents a short while ago." Hermione paled.

"She was very worried about you, and wanted them to be aware of the effect they were having on you." As Hermione struggled for words, Dumbledore continued, "Imagine your parents' surprise when they didn't know they were getting divorced."

"Oh my god," Hermione mumbled, putting her head in her hands.

"She asked me to speak with you right away," Dumbledore said. "She's obviously very concerned."

"I have to talk to my parents, sir," Hermione said urgently. "I have to explain."

"No need, Miss Granger," Dumbledore reassured. "I've already taken the liberty of sending them a message explaining the situation."

Hermione blinked back her shock. "You know?"

"If you mean that I know you were procuring potions for Harry, yes I do," Dumbledore said solemnly.

"Sir, I'm sorry…"

Dumbledore put up his hand to stop her. "There's no need." Heaving a deep breath, Dumbledore said earnestly, "In fact, I am deeply grateful to you, my dear, for looking after him." A pause. "I've asked you here, Hermione," Dumbledore said with sudden deliberate informality, "to inquire about how Harry is coping. It's been nearly a week since he's come to see me."

"I've tried to get him to come and see you, but he refused. He said…" Hermione stopped, suddenly aware that what she was going to say would sound rude.

"Hermione, please, I've asked you here as a friend. Please speak freely."

"He said you couldn't help him."

"To that, I'm afraid, Harry is probably correct." Dumbledore paused, considering how badly this situation was unfolding. Never had he dreamed he would be approaching two and a half weeks with Severus still having not regained his memories. He'd told Harry the truth along the way. He'd felt certain that Severus's mind would readjust quickly. It was no wonder the boy didn't want to see him. He probably felt as though he'd been deliberately misled. If only he knew that Dumbledore was as much in the dark as he. He felt a pang of guilt for not paying closer attention to Harry's health. He'd been so preoccupied with Severus.

"Tell me, is Harry taking the potions you obtained from Madam Pomfrey?"

"For the most part. But it's always a fight."

Dumbledore could see the stress on the girl's face. He leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder and said earnestly, "You're a true friend, Hermione. Harry may be irked with you now, but be assured, one day you will have his gratitude." Hermione smiled meekly. "You have mine now, my dear."

"Thank you, sir."

"I hear from Professor McGonagall that Harry has quit the Quidditch team."

"Yes, sir. He said he didn't care about it anymore. Honestly, after today's class, I can't say I blame him."

"What happened?"

Hermione hesitated but at Dumbledore's reassuring nod, she elaborated on the events in Potions. "It's almost as though Professor Snape is getting more and more antagonistic towards Harry."

"I think that's precisely what's happening. And I'm counting on it, in fact." At her confused expression, he explained, "Think of it this way, my dear. His mood swings are an outward sign of his mind's tumult; his emotions are all over the place as his mind struggles to remember."

"I guess that makes sense," Hermione agreed tentatively.

"Unfortunately, Hermione, nothing about this makes much sense. I'd appreciate it if you could stop by every once in a while and let me know how Harry is doing. And any time you wish to tell me something, just give me a glance during dinner, and I'll know you wish to speak."

"Alright, sir."

"Perhaps the three of you could stop by this weekend for some tea."

"Three?"

"Yes. You, Harry and Mr. Weasley."

"I don't think that's a good idea, sir. Not if we're talking about Professor Snape."

"I take it then that Mr. Weasley is not being supportive?"

"Not really. More like gloating that he knew this would happen."

"I see. Well then it seems, my dear, that Harry will be relying on you more than ever."

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When Dumbledore entered the faculty room, he found his Deputy Headmistress was already waiting for him.

"So what's this all about, Albus?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I can't really say."

"Hmm, I see."

"But I will tell you that Harry is in no danger."

"His grades have been abysmal these past two weeks and he's been truant a few days."

"I am aware of that."

"Have you spoken with him?"

"Yes. And I'm afraid the situation is as it is. Harry is under a great deal of stress and I don't think he is in any condition to continue with Quidditch at the moment. I would accept his resignation and give him some time."

Eyeing the Headmaster carefully, McGonagall knew that he wasn't faring very well either. "Are you alright, Albus?"

"You've been asking me that quite a bit these days."

"And it seems with reason. You don't look well."

"Well, thank you, my dear."

"I'm worried about you," she said seriously.

"I'm fine, Minerva. Just tired."

"You look absolutely exhausted. Are you sleeping?"

No answer.

McGonagall took a step forward and almost reached out to touch Dumbledore, but stopped herself. "Would you like to talk about it?" she asked softly.

_Oh yes._ If only he could.

"This doesn't have anything to do with Severus, does it?"

"Why would you say that?" Dumbledore asked with interest.

"Well," McGonagall began slowly, carefully considering the question. "He's been acting very strangely."

"How so?"

"He snapped at me the other day."

"And that's strange?"

"It wasn't his usual impatience. This time he was…" she paused trying to decipher what his mood was. "Well, he was sincerely angry."

"At you?" Dumbledore pressed.

"I'm not sure."

Dumbledore was intensely curious. "What were you discussing?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Just going over the rosters."

"Did Mr. Potter come up?"

She thought about it. "Yes, actually. I asked Severus how he was doing in Potions. He completely lost his temper and accused me of making excuses for him. It was very out of character. And it's not just me. The other faculty have been complaining about him more than usual as well. Something's obviously wrong with him, Albus. You should speak with him."

"Unfortunately, I'm not sure that would do much good. He's not been very fond of me lately…"

Minerva shook her head and whispered confidentially. "Don't be silly, Albus. Surely you know by now that Severus worships the ground you walk on. You're his closest friend; he'll listen to you."

Dumbledore's response was cut short by the faculty who'd begun filing in from dinner.

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The faculty meeting went on fairly smoothly, except that Snape seemed to grumble louder than usual when the other faculty spoke, and uncharacteristically, when the Headmaster spoke as well.

Dumbledore was looking through a thick stack of papers before concluding, "And I'm afraid I'm still missing some early term reports, from Filius, Septima and Severus, I think."

"I sent it to you yesterday," Snape interjected.

"Oh, yes, that's right," Dumbledore realized. "Sorry about that."

"Who's got the memory problem now?" Snape mumbled.

Dumbledore pretended to not have heard the comment and continued normally, "Well, that's all from me. Are there any matters anyone else would like to discuss?"

Flitwick cleared his throat and began in his high pitched voice. "I'd like to voice my concern about Mr. Potter. His performance has been dreadful of late."

"Isn't it always?" Snape muttered, this time not too quietly.

Dumbledore once again ignored the commentary.

There was a minute's more discussion of Harry in which all the faculty agreed on his deteriorating performance.

"Rest assured," Dumbledore said, "I've discussed this situation with Harry in person. And I would ask for your patience as Mr. Potter deals with some difficult personal issues."

"So now we're making exceptions for him?" Snape snapped.

"I never said that, Severus. I believe we've had similar conversations regarding other students as well."

"Should we allow him to make up his missed assignments, Headmaster?" Flitwick asked.

"In fairness, I think that decision needs to be left up to each of you, but if you want my opinion—"

"We don't."

The staff gasped, almost as a collective whole. A reproachful, 'Severus!' came from Minerva's direction and Vector and Flitwick whispered something to each other.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore said firmly, his tone demanding silence. "My advice would be to give him a week's time to make up his missed assignments so he can catch up. Now, if that's all, maybe we should call it a night. Professor Snape, please stay a moment."

The faculty exited promptly, murmuring to each other. Only when the door was closed did Dumbledore speak.

"That was very unprofessional of you, Severus. And I'd ask you not to speak to me in that manner in front of the faculty again."

Dumbledore could see the anger swell in Severus's eyes and for a moment he was sure that Severus was going to lash out at him. But then just as suddenly his demeanor changed. "I'm sorry, Albus," Snape said sincerely, his expression contrite and confused. "I don't know what came over me."

"Are you feeling unwell?"

Snape shook his head vehemently. "No. I just… I just can't stand Potter. He's driving me crazy."

"Perhaps we should talk about this in my office."

"There's nothing to talk about. I've told you that."

"Don't you think the fact that the mere mention of him in a faculty meeting causes you to snap means that there is something to talk about?"

"It won't happen again, Albus."

"I heard there was some commotion in class today."

"I cannot believe he told you that," Snape shouted. "That boy is insufferable…"

"He didn't say a word to me. Believe it or not, there are very few secrets in this castle."

Snape seemed not to hear Dumbledore at all. "It's going to be another two weeks with Filch for him! I can't have him questioning my authority at every turn."

"Severus! Listen to me. I didn't speak with Harry." When Severus shook his head in disbelief, Dumbledore continued. "And I think the past week with Argus has already been quite enough. He should not have any more, and certainly not without a reason."

"You're always standing up for him!" Snape snapped, continuing with his rant oblivious to Dumbledore's words.

Dumbledore watched and absorbed it all with great interest. He could see the roller coaster that was Severus's mind, unfolding before him without any prodding. Severus was out of control of his shields and as they slipped, Dumbledore could feel the tumult of emotions radiating out from him. His mind was fighting itself and even though this spelled turmoil for Severus, Dumbledore knew that this war within his own psyche was a step in the right direction. Dumbledore only hoped that the right part would win.

"Severus, please calm down. Just listen to yourself. This isn't like you."

"You mean because I'm not deferring to everything you say?" Snape snapped. "This is who I am, Albus. Get used to it. I'm not going to stand by anymore and not speak my mind." With that, he stormed out in a billow of black robes.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, his head hanging down on his chest. Severus was spiraling out of control and it seemed there was little he could do but watch it happen.

He felt something touch his arm and when he looked up, Minerva was standing before him, a look of concern permeating his face.

"Are you alright, Albus?"

"I'm fine, Minerva."

"You're not fine, Albus. I heard Severus shouting. What on earth is going on with him?" she asked angrily.

"I can't… It would be compromising his privacy to say."

"And why protect it when he's clearly hurting you?"

A sigh. "Thank you, Minerva for your support."

McGonagall turned to leave but after a moment's hesitation reconsidered. "Could you maybe use some company this evening, Albus?"

A beat. "That would be delightful, my dear."

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Students and faculty alike looked on in stunned silence as Professor Snape dragged a dazed looking Harry Potter by his collar down the corridor. The pair were moving with incredible speed, so much so that it almost seemed that Harry's feet were barely touching the stone floor.

Harry knew he was in serious trouble, but he could barely bring himself to be concerned. At least he'd gotten Severus's attention, albeit not in the way he'd hoped.

After another two hours of dealing with Professor Snape's taunts, he was desperate. He realized that if Dumbledore hadn't done anything drastic by now, he wasn't going to. And that meant it was up to him. So after class had ended just minutes before, he'd waited patiently for all the students to leave. With his rudimentary Legilimency, he formed a connection with Severus and sent him a memory. It was of the last time they'd made love. The pair of them, head to toe on their woolen hearth rug, each giving and receiving pleasure simultaneously.

It was one of his favorite memories.

Apparently, Professor Snape didn't find it so appealing.

Snape dragged Harry into the Headmaster's quarters. Once they made it into Dumbledore's office, Snape released Harry so abruptly, he staggered forward, struggling to find his footing.

"I demand you expel this disgusting little wretch this instant, Headmaster!"

Dumbledore took in the pair before him. Harry wore an expression of utter defeat and Severus looked positively murderous.

"Harry, would you please excuse us?"

A spark of life in Harry's eyes as his own anger flared. "No! I'm not going anywhere until you fix this! You lied to me. You promised everything was going to be alright!"

"Apologize this instant, Potter," Snape shouted. "How dare you disrespect the Headmaster that way?!"

"Severus, please, it's quite all right."

"It's not bloody alright," Snape snapped. "He's an insolent little arse."

"Oh, and you're the modicum of politeness," Harry retaliated, half-stunned by his own bravado.

Snape moved so fast, neither Harry nor the Headmaster saw it. Without warning, he had both his hands on the back of Harry's collar and pushed him forward up the dais towards Dumbledore's desk.

"I said apologize!" A second later Snape twisted the collar sharply, such that Harry was forced on his tiptoes to catch a breath.

"Severus!"

Snape wasn't listening and forcefully shoved Harry face first down against the hard wooden desk, his body impacting with a heavy thud and a gasp from the young man.

"Apologize, you little twit!" Snape demanded.

"Severus, unhand him this instant!!"

Snape did not comply and instead increased the pressure against Harry's collar. In a split second, Snape found himself across the room lying prostrate on the floor. Momentarily disorientated, it took him a moment to rise to his feet. When he looked up at Dumbledore, the elder wizard's icy tone made it clear he was to comply. "Severus, wait for me in my study."

A moment later a silencing charm assured their privacy and Dumbledore turned his attentions to the visibly shaken young man in front of him.

"Harry, are you alright?"

Harry was somewhat stunned but otherwise no worse for the wear. "I'm fine."

"I should tell you that it is within your right to file a complaint against Professor Snape. He should not have put his hands on you."

"It's fine."

"Rest assured, I will speak with him. What on earth precipitated this?"

Harry flushed bright red at the memory of what he'd done, and the prospect of explaining it to Dumbledore was not a pleasant one. But before he could consider how to phrase it, Dumbledore put his hand up and spared him the trouble.

"It's alright, my boy. You need not say. I can guess." Harry's embarrassment coupled with Severus's mental frailty was enough for him to deduce what had happened.

Exhausted, Harry took a seat opposite the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore pulled up a chair next to Harry.

"I spoke with Miss Granger yesterday. She's indicated to me that you are not taking care of yourself, my boy."

"What's the point?" Harry asked solemnly.

Dumbledore waited until Harry met his eyes before saying, "Harry, I know you are under immeasurable stress right now. But you can't give up. That's the very last thing Severus would want you to do."

Maybe at one time, Harry considered to himself. Now it was apparent Severus didn't care – more than that, now he was hated. He considered what had just happened a moment before. Severus's aggression towards him had been shocking, something he never would have expected. His eyes prickled with tears and he struggled to speak without showing his emotion. "What is wrong with him?"

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh, taking a moment to formulate his response. "Severus's reactions to you are a coping mechanism of sorts. His mind is warring so hard against itself, against all the memories, of you, of all his past traumas with Voldemort, it's pouring out all of his old hate in an uncontrolled way." A pause. "It's very possible that all these mood changes are a sign that he's closer to a breakthrough."

"So the part that hates me is coming out to cover up the part that loves me, is that it?"

"That's perhaps the most straightforward rendering I could have come up with myself, yes."

"And you think this is a good sign?"

"Yes." Even as he said it, Dumbledore's insides squirmed. The truth was, he wasn't nearly as sure of himself as he was expressing to Harry. His best guess was that Severus's mind was rebelling against the memories. But there was a second, more concerning possibility. That this was not rebellion, but adaptation, his mind's way of developing a new personality, overlaying new thoughts and emotions so as to bury everything else deep within him. It was impossible to know the outcome. If anyone's mind was too complex to predict, it was Severus's.

"It's been over two weeks. How much longer before… before it's too late for it to get better?"

Dumbledore blinked back surprise at the astuteness of Harry's question. "There's no way to say for certain," Dumbledore replied tentatively.

"Forget what's for certain," Harry snapped. "Please just tell me the truth," Harry implored, his patience thinning.

Dumbledore studied the young man in front of him and realized he deserved that much, however painful the truth was. "Every day this goes on, Harry, the more difficult it will become for Severus to retrieve his memories."

"And how long is too long?"

"Every case is individual." Before Harry could interrupt with frustration, Dumbledore added, "I'm telling you the truth, my boy. I'm only guessing here. This is not an exact science. But based on what I've read and what I know about the mind, I would estimate that we have about another two weeks before we begin to worry."

Harry translated the Dumbledore speak in his mind. 'Begin to worry.' He knew what that meant. If in two weeks Severus hadn't gotten better, his life was over.

"And you think that he'll get his memories back before then? That he's going to be okay?"

"Judging by his drastic mood swings and his increased animosity to you over the past few days alone, I believe so."

"Good, because I don't know if I can take much more of this," Harry admitted, embarrassed by expressing the selfish thought.

"I know dealing with Severus is not easy right now, but will you permit me to give you some advice?"

Harry almost chuckled at that; he knew exactly what Dumbledore was going to say. "You want me to leave him alone."

Dumbledore's stroked his beard for a moment and replied, "Essentially yes. I know what you've been trying to do Harry, to remind Severus of your time together. But perhaps instead, you should try and remind him why he fell in love with you in the first place."

Harry's interest perked and he was suddenly keen to hear the rest. "How do I do that?"

"Be yourself, but keep your distance. Be a good student, polite and conscientious. Study hard and you won't give him the chance to insult your intelligence if you're current with your assignments."

Irritated by what he perceived as futile advice, Harry scoffed, "What's that got to do with anything?"

Dumbledore leaned forward and did his best to convey his sincerity. "Severus was extremely proud of your improved grades and diligence in your classes, Harry." At the disbelieving expression on the young man's face, Dumbledore continued, "He told me so himself. Many times. He practically beamed when he spoke about it. I know it's not much, but demonstrating some increased level of maturity with Severus would certainly not hurt matters. He's looking for a reason, any reason, to antagonize you. Don't let him find it. Don't let him provoke you."

Harry's heart wanted to argue, but he stopped himself. Maybe Dumbledore was right. After all, it had been his interference early on that had pushed Severus into the mental breakdown. And his most recent stunt had only prompted Severus to react more violently than ever before. Maybe keeping a low profile was exactly the right thing to do.

"And you think that will help?" Harry asked somewhat skeptically.

Dumbledore paused a long moment as he contemplated his next words to Harry. He'd originally planned not to speak of it, but given Harry's inclination at radical measures, he felt it best to be honest with the young man. "Harry… I don't know how to say this kindly, so I'll just say it." A beat. "Severus's behavior with you a few minutes ago cannot be excused by anything you might have done. You understand that?" Dumbledore waited for Harry to nod before continuing, "However, forcing a memory into someone's mind, even if they were your lover, is a violation of sorts."

Harry felt himself grow hot all over as the meaning of Dumbledore's words dawned on him. He hadn't thought of it in those terms before. A violation. He tried to speak, to apologize, but his throat constricted.

Dumbledore leaned forward and grabbed hold of Harry's arm, extending comfort.

"I'm sorry," Harry choked out, dropping his head to his chest.

Dumbledore lifted Harry's chin and forced him to meet his gaze. "Harry, listen to me, you didn't know. And I tell you this not to make you feel uncomfortable or guilty, but so that you will know for the future. I know you won't do that again," Dumbledore said gently.

Taking in Harry's dejected form, Dumbledore stood and opened his arms. Harry took a step forward and gratefully accepted the hug. "I'm sorry, sir."

"No more apologies. But you can do something for me, my boy."

When Harry looked up expectantly, Dumbledore said, "Take care of yourself and take the potions Miss Granger procured for you. I'll not have you getting sick as well."

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After Harry's departure from his quarters, Dumbledore waited exactly one minute before he lifted the silencing charm and entered his study.

Snape was on his feet in an instant and started back into his rant as though there had never been a twenty minute interruption. "I know what you're going to say, and quite frankly I don't want to hear—"

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore interrupted firmly, "with all due disrespect, shut up and sit down."

That got Snape's attention and flustered him enough that he obeyed without argument.

"I don't know what you were thinking," Dumbledore began seriously and with a good measure of ire. "I hope to Merlin that you weren't thinking, because I am absolutely stunned by your behavior back there." Snape opened his mouth to interrupt, but Dumbledore's hand was up in an instant, icy authority radiating him from. "Whatever may be going on with you, you will not under any circumstances manhandle the students. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but—"

"Consider carefully what you're about to say, Severus."

"Am I at least allowed to defend myself here?" Snape asked in frustration.

"As long as it is understood that there is no excusing what you just did, then by all means."

Snape took a breath and tried to muster up some level of sincere explanation. "Albus, you know I would never… I've never done that to a student. But this is Potter…"

"And that makes it alright?"

"His immaturity is—"

"_His_ immaturity?" Dumbledore asked in astonishment. "You believe you've been acting maturely?"

"If you knew what he did—"

"I don't care what he did," Dumbledore said with firm displeasure. "I expect to never see such behavior from you again, or I will put it in your record. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes," Snape huffed ill-temperedly. "Now may I finally explain what happened?" At Dumbledore's nod, Snape started back into his rant. "Class ended and he waltzed right up to me and forced a memory into my mind. Forced! He didn't say a word, just stuck this horrid thing in there. It was abominable!" Snape shouted. "If you had seen it, you might have reacted the same way."

Dumbledore paused to take a seat directly opposite Severus. He carefully posed his next question. "By your reaction, am to take it that this was a sexual memory of the two of you?"

A moment before Snape answered with a reluctant, "Yes," before continuing, "And it was very very graphic. I was horrified. The boy should be expelled!"

"Harry's actions were completely inappropriate. And I expressed that to him. But expelling him is ridiculous given the circumstances and given your actions back there, I'd say you're lucky he didn't file a formal complaint. Let it go."

"Are you serious?" Snape asked incredulously. "That's it?"

"For all intents and purposes, Harry is dealing with the loss of a loved one." Snape snickered mockingly, but Dumbledore continued, "Tell me, why is it that you're so short-tempered?"

"Are you joking? He just assaulted me!"

"Forget this incident. You've been taunting him all week. Don't think that hadn't gotten back to me. And for what purpose?"

"What's your point?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Your behavior has changed. If you can't see that…"

"I'm reacting to his stunts!" Snape threw his hands in the air. "I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall here," Snape muttered before speaking his next sentence so slowly it was dripping with condescension. "Why am I reacting to him? Maybe because… he… _forced_… a memory… into… _my_ mind!"

Dumbledore ignored the tone and asked, "And how did that memory make you feel?" He knew it was a long shot, but if he could get Severus to answer, perhaps he could gain better insight into how his mind was processing that memory.

"What?"

"You said you were violated. Understood. What else did you feel?"

Snape stared at Dumbledore as though he'd lost his head. "Are you serious? How the fuck do you think it made me feel? Will you stop this psycho-babble bullshit?"

"Just tell me if it triggered any residual memories. Any feelings?"

Snape's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "You're asking me if I…" he stopped. "… if I enjoyed it?" Snape snorted and then almost went into hysterics with laughter. "You really think Potter putting that one memory in my head is going to make me change my mind and decide I want him? That I'll suddenly start secretly pinning for him. You're more deluded than he!"

"That's not what I said, Severus… I simply—"

"This conversation is over. Goodnight, Headmaster."

Snape was out the door before Dumbledore could say another word.

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Snape's ire intensified with every step his took down the long corridor towards the dungeons. By the time he made it back to his quarters, he was in desperate need of a drink. Going to his liquor cupboard, he realized he was out of scotch, and made his way to his bookshelf where he kept his good bottle.

On the side table, he noticed Potter's journal. Snape poured himself a drink and walked over towards it, staring at it for a long moment before finally picking up the leather bound volume.

The memory Harry Potter had placed in his head came to him then. The image of himself having sex with Potter felt so alien in his mind, he felt that it couldn't be real, and yet he knew it had been. He wondered for half a second who that man was that had chosen a relationship with that young man. And as the memory permeated his consciousness, Dumbledore's question came to him. How did it make him feel?

Considering the question carefully, only one emotion came to mind. Here was Dumbledore's unambiguous answer.

With a flick of the wrist, he tossed the volume into his fireplace, watching with calm certitude as the journal went up in flames.

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_**Author's note:**_ Thank you everyone for your tremendous support of this story, particulary given last chapter's delay. I tried to make it up to you with a quick update this time and it seems that I'm one-upping my own chapter length – this was originally intended as two chapters but I think it worked better as one so there it is. I hope it ended up being overwhelming as intended, and I hope more in a good way than bad.

Thank you as always to Molvanian Queen-In-Exile and Ketsurui for the beta.

I look forward to your comments on this chapter.


	18. I'm done

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake **by** CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 18: I'm done**

April dawned colder than ever. And it seemed, to Harry's misfortune, that this was also a suitable metaphor for his life. It had been almost five weeks since Severus had lost his memories – far too long, even by Dumbledore's standards. The last time he'd spoken to the Headmaster, Dumbledore had told him they had another two weeks before they should worry. Well, more than the requisite two weeks had passed and Harry knew well enough what that meant, although he wasn't yet ready to admit it to himself.

Reaching into his trunk, Harry pulled out a piece of folded parchment stashed in a secret compartment. This had become a bedtime ritual of his; he'd watch Severus on the Marauder's Map for an hour every night. It was really pathetic, he knew, but this was his only remaining connection with the love of his life.

He'd taken Dumbledore's advice and over the past three weeks he'd applied himself vigorously to his studies. Nearly all his free time every evening was spent studying with Hermione. It drove Ron past the point of exasperation, but it was all worth it that first time he'd answered Professor's Snape's interrogation about the assignment. The look of surprise on the Professor's face was a small triumph, although of course Snape had said nothing in response.

With the exception of this hour every evening where he indulged with his map, he had had no significant interactions with Severus for weeks now. That was not to say that staring at the man's footprints could be termed an 'interaction' of any sort, but it was better than nothing. In class, he was being consistently ignored. As soon as he'd heeded Dumbledore's advice about leaving Severus alone, he'd received the same treatment in kind. Apparently the elder wizard had been right – Severus had been looking for a reason to antagonize him and in its absence, all was quiet. Given Snape's previous hostility toward him, Harry had thought that being ignored would be a welcome change. It was not.

Harry turned his attention back to the map. He observed two sets of miniature black footprints moving about the parchment from Dumbledore's office to his sitting room. McGonagall was there with him. Harry had noticed that she seemed to be there an awful lot these days. Perhaps they were together, Harry mused. Where once he might have found the notion gross, now it only engendered envy. Dumbledore had someone. He had no one.

Flipping the parchment over, he did not find Severus anywhere in his quarters. Harry scanned the lab, the corridors, and then the Slytherin common room; still no luck. He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was past nine o'clock, a little late for Severus to be out of the castle, even for a Saturday.

"Are you looking at that damn thing again?" Ron asked, entering the room.

Harry scowled in his friend's direction and said nothing.

"That's just sad, mate."

"Just shut up, Ron," Harry said, incensed by the constant battle things had become with his friend.

"Not until you put that thing away."

When Harry did not comply, Ron snatched the parchment. Harry was on his feet in an instant, lunging forward to try and reclaim the map.

"Give it back!"

"No."

"Stop being an arse…"

"You first!"

Harry gave Ron a shove and went for the map again, but Ron managed to switch it to the other hand.

"Damn it, Ron, just leave me alone!"

"You look at that damn thing every night," Ron snapped. "As if he'll know and change his mind and love you again."

Before he was even aware of it, Harry felt his fist connect with Ron's right eye.

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Not fifteen minutes later, both Harry and Ron found themselves in McGonagall's office. Their Head of House did not look amused, but neither would explain what had happened.

"What I want to know," Ron said irately, "is what Gryffindor fink called you, Professor?"

"That is not of your concern. Mr. Potter, did you assault Mr. Weasley?"

Ron did not give Harry the chance to speak, interrupting, "No, he didn't. I told you this already. Nobody punched anybody. I ran into a door."

"You ran into a door?" McGonagall repeated, clearly unimpressed. "Mr. Potter, is that what happened?"

"If that's what Ron said happened, then that's what happened," Harry said flatly.

"First your grades, then the Quidditch team, and now this. What is going on with you, Mr. Potter?"

"Nothing."

"Perhaps you would prefer to speak with the Headmaster."

"Fine."

That surprised McGonagall. Most students confessed everything upon threat of having to see Dumbledore. She supposed that meant Albus was already aware of Harry's situation. Not wanting to burden Albus's schedule any further, she said, "Very well then. I'll check the Headmaster's schedule and let you know. In the meantime, no more violence of any kind or our next conversation will be in the Headmaster's office."

On the walk back to the dormitory, Harry considered his actions. Remembering how upset he'd been by Severus's rough treatment of him two weeks ago, he felt the urge to apologize to his friend.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry said. "I shouldn't have hit you."

Ron stopped dead in his tracks. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I've been an arse. I'm just… I'm just worried about you, mate. Sometimes all I can think about is killing Snape for what he's done to you."

"Yeah, I know. Me too," Harry replied to Ron's surprise.

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Dumbledore was terrified out of his mind. He'd been pacing around his office for the past few hours now, shortly after he'd received that note from Severus. He could not quite fathom the fact that Severus had left… just like that. They had spoken about this extensively. He'd been clear and Severus had agreed: if he was called by Voldemort, he was not to respond. Without access to all of his memories, it posed too grave a risk.

There were so many possibilities that would end in tragedy. One question or one reference about previous events was all it would take. Severus might be a skilled Occlumens, but evasion and misdirection were the talents that he depended on. If Voldemort suspected something was amiss and demanded an answer that Severus could not provide, no amount of evasion would be able to prevent the inevitable.

Why on earth had Severus responded to that summons? More than that, Dumbledore knew he'd done it deliberately. Instead of sending the note from his quarters as he usually did, he'd sent it from the edge of the castle wards, giving Dumbledore no time in stopping him from apparating away. By the time he'd received the missive, Severus was already gone.

The past three hours of stomach-wrenching anxiety ended in the blink of an eye as Dumbledore sensed the moving stairway to his quarters activate and knew instantly it was Severus.

As the door to his quarters opened, Dumbledore's relief bloomed into anger as he came to understand the answer to why Severus had gone. The younger wizard's smug expression said it all. He'd done it because he could. He'd done it to show Dumbledore that he had no control over him.

"You seem very satisfied with yourself."

Snape returned the statement with a harsh glare and an annoyed, "I don't know what you mean."

"Did we or did we not discuss you not heeding any summons until your memory has returned?"

"I don't remember a discussion actually," Snape said tersely. "I remember you telling me what to do."

"If Voldemort had made reference to any of the events you've blocked from your memory―"

"Why don't you just tell me what these things are then?" Snape snapped. "It would save all this trouble."

"Is this your way of forcing me to tell you?" When Snape did not respond, Dumbledore continued, "I haven't told you because there is a reason you do not remember. Your mind needs time to heal and come to remember these things on its own time. When you had these memories, you were unable to deal with them." Snape looked visibly bored by all this and Dumbledore tried to get his attention. "Severus, you could have been killed tonight."

Snape waved his hand dismissively. "Obviously I wasn't."

"Do you have any idea of what you've just put me through?"

No response.

"You have never shown such flagrant disregard for my instructions before."

"It's my life," Snape replied petulantly.

Dumbledore stared at his friend in disbelief. It was as though the wise mature man he'd known had morphed into an immature rebellious teenager.

"It is your life, Severus, but it's my responsibility to protect it." A pause. "More so, it seems as you are clearly not well."

"I'm fine."

"Why did you go tonight?"

"That's a stupid question."

"Did you fully understand the risk you were taking?"

"Yes."

"And you went anyway. To me that suggests an almost callous disregard for your well-being."

Snape studied the elder wizard a moment before asking heatedly, "Are you suggesting that I'm suicidal?"

Dumbledore did not answer but spoke insistently. "You are not to go back there if you are called again. Is that understood?"

Snape glared at Dumbledore and said, "It's not your business to dictate what I do."

"Actually it is. Last time I checked, Severus, I am still your boss."

A pause. "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime if the Dark Lord calls? Ignore him?"

"Yes, just as we'd discussed. You can relay it through one of your contacts that I'm keeping a close eye on you. That should delay him in the short-term."

"And after that? Then what?" Snape pressed forcefully.

When Dumbledore said nothing, Snape continued, "I'm not getting my memories back if that's what you're thinking."

Dumbledore considered Severus's words carefully and asked, "Why would you say that, Severus?"

"It's been over a month. Even you must have figured it out by now. I'm not going to remember and thank Merlin for that! And before you tell me I'm not myself, maybe you should ask yourself why I haven't remembered. I was clearly not well to have been with Potter."

"Severus―"

"No. Leave it alone. I've had enough talk about this, Headmaster."

"Will you at least stay for a cup of tea?"

"I may not be able to help the fact that you are my boss, Headmaster, but last I checked," Snape said with a sneer, "I can still choose whose company I keep in my own time. Goodnight."

Dumbledore wasn't sure how long he was standing there, staring into space. At some point Minerva had come into the room and had begun chatting with him about something or other. He managed to nod every so often, but his mind was not on her words. Severus was more far-gone than he'd ever imagined. Two weeks ago he'd told Harry that now was around the time they needed to start worrying that Severus might never regain his memories. Truth be told, Dumbledore had never envisioned Severus's mental block could last so long. More than that, the traumas he'd suffered had brought on what seemed like an entirely alien personality in his friend.

Over the past few weeks, he'd tried many times unsuccessfully to get through to Severus, but it seemed at though his attempts were all but futile now. Severus wouldn't engage him. More than that, he was completely ignoring his instructions regarding his own safety.

Throughout their conversation tonight, Dumbledore had carefully been reading Severus's demeanor and prodding his mental walls. He'd been surprised to find none of the instability or signs of illness he'd seen there some weeks before. If anything, Severus appeared healthier mentally than he had in a very long time, and this did not bode well for a change. His mind had clearly done a superb job at protecting him from all that had happened. But the cost of Severus's sanity was apparently laid at his and Harry's feet.

"Are you even listening to me, Albus?"

Dumbledore met McGonagall's eyes for the first time. "No, my dear, I'm very sorry."

McGonagall starting saying something once more, something about Severus and offering to hear out his troubles. But he couldn't imagine telling her what he was afraid to admit to himself – that he was losing his best friend and he was powerless to stop it.

"I've got to go, Minerva. Excuse me."

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Elphias Doge was not a man who was unaccustomed to surprises. In his role as Special Advisor to the Wizengamot and Liaison to the Ministry of Magic Internal Affairs, he experienced his fair share of surprises on what seemed like a daily basis. And over the years, his secret work as a member of the Order of the Phoenix did not leave his life short of shocking events either.

But even he had to admit to being taken aback by what he saw upon entering the Leaky Cauldron this evening. He'd had a meeting in London, and given how late it had run, had decided to use the Floo at the bar instead of finding a safe spot to Apparate home. His first clue something was wrong came when he caught Tom the barman's eye and was greeted with a concerned look and a nod towards the corner.

To his great surprise, there he saw none other than Albus Dumbledore, his friend of many years, drunk.

Elphias made his way to the bar. "Good evening, Tom."

"Hey, Doge. What'll it be?" Tom asked in his usual loud voice.

Doge pretended to consider while Tom dropped his voice to a whisper. "I stopped serving him an hour ago, but he keeps refilling his own glass."

Before he could decide what to do, the entrance from Diagon Alley swung open. And of al the people to come in at that very moment, it had to be Rita Skeeter! It took her no time to spot Dumbledore and her green quill was out in an instant, hovering beside her.

"What do we have here? The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry out alone in a bar late at night and apparently too drunk to hold his head up off the table."

"Excuse me, madam," Elphias interrupted sharply from behind, his presence startling the reporter. "The Headmaster is not drunk, and he is most certainly not alone. He's been waiting for me. Albus, I'm dreadfully late… it seems I caught you dozing off I've been so long!"

When Rita Skeeter turned around, she found that Dumbledore was indeed wide awake, sitting up normally. She was too dumbfounded to speak, but Elphias motioned her aside. "If you'll excuse me, we have a meeting. Goodnight."

It took Skeeter a moment, but eventually she left the table, taking a seat across the bar, muttering 'dogbreath' as she did.

"So sorry about the wake up charm, Albus," Doge whispered, "but I didn't have much choice there. Skeeter never passes up an opportunity to attack someone's character, least of all yours. Count your lucky stars I didn't have to resort to a sobering charm; they leave the most horrendous headache I've found," Doge said with a smile, taking his seat across from the Headmaster.

"Elphias, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was coming in to use the Floo; I had a late meeting with the Muggle Ambassador. The better question is what are you doing here? Are you alright?"

"No, not really. Care for a glass of mead?" Dumbledore asked, pouring himself another and one for Elphias.

"Perhaps we should have some water instead."

As if on cue, Tom was there. "I brought some water for both of you. Lucky break there about Skeeter. That woman's a monster."

Once Tom had left, Elphias spoke. "I'm surprised to find you here, Albus. I can't remember the last time we ran into each other like this," he said. "We always seem to pass each other in the Ministry or at the Wizengamot assemblies and never have a chance to talk."

"That's true," Dumbledore mused, half-absorbed in the glass of mead. "Why is that? We should see each other socially. You should come over for tea sometime."

Doge appeared flustered for a moment before replying softly, "That is a very kind invitation, Albus. But you're a very busy man, with too many important things to worry over without having an old man like me over for tea."

"I may be drunk, Elphias, but my memory is not gone. We're the same age."

"In years, perhaps, but not in spirit. So tell me, what's going on? I've never known you to frequent bars and drink alone."

Perhaps it was all the mead, or maybe it was the need to open up to someone, but Dumbledore felt comfortable confiding at least part of his turmoil with his friend.

"I've lost someone close to me."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Did they pass away?"

"No. They're just… not themselves anymore."

Doge hesitated but asked, "Is this person a friend or… something more, if you don't mind my asking?"

"A friend. At least they used to be. My best friend. Not anymore I guess." Dumbledore refilled his glass of mead much to Doge's displeasure.

"I see. Well then I think I know about whom we're speaking."

"You do?"

"Yes. If I'm not mistaken, this person is like a son to you, correct?"

"Yes, how did you know that?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.

"My, you really are drunk, aren't you?" Doge asked rhetorically, amused by Dumbledore's diminished capacity. "It's not very difficult to figure out." A pause. "As you know, Albus, I have two sons. Of course they are all grown up now, but I can't tell you how many times we fought. And there were many times where it seemed as though we'd never reconcile. Sometimes people lose their way and they say hurtful things. Your relationship with this person has seen too much to be permanently damaged by whatever this one problem is. It will survive, I'm sure of it."

"I hope you're right."

"In the meantime, stay out of bars, old friend, all right?" Doge's eyes turned sharply towards the door as Rita Skeeter reentered the bar, her gaze intent on the two of them. "Ah, Skeeter's back, just as I suspected. Don't worry, I asked Tom to call Minerva and she should be here any second to help you back to Hogwarts."

Not a minute later, the deputy headmistress had arrived at their table.

"Goodnight, Albus, Minerva."

But before he could leave, Dumbledore grabbed Doge's shoulder and said, "Thank you, Elphy. Here you are, saving me from myself yet again, dear friend."

Doge nodded his goodbye right before approaching Skeeter, distracting her attention enough so that Albus and Minerva could make it through the Floo unnoticed. Wistfully, Doge thought of the response he wished he could have given Albus Dumbledore.

'I never saved you from anything, Albus. You're the one who saved us all.'

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Harry tried to contain himself but he could barely sit still in Potions. Another Monday and another horrendous start to the week. He'd spent the entire weekend working intently on the assignment Professor Snape had given them and felt confident he had the best, save perhaps Hermione's. Snape had glanced at it, and while commenting on others' performance, he had said nothing to him.

Their assignment in class had been to brew the anti-nausea potion they'd written about. Harry had put every ounce of his efforts into it. As Snape examined each students' work, he made brief comments: Hermione's "acceptable," Parkinson's "drivel," and Ron's, "why do you even bother, Mr. Weasley?"

Now his. Snape looked at the vial for a split second and after his eyes drifted up to see whom it belonged to, he moved on to the next person, neither picking up the vial nor saying a single word to Harry. That was the final straw. He would not be ignored any longer.

"Excuse me, Professor. You didn't say anything about my potion."

A sideways glare. "Thank you for stating the obvious, Potter," Snape said coldly, and immediately turned his attention to Patil's vial.

Harry was livid and he was not going to play this game anymore. He didn't care what Dumbledore said. He existed, damn it!

"Professor, I would appreciate it if you at least took at look at it."

"Oh you would, would you?" Snape asked, eyebrows up.

Hermione was elbowing him and half the class was stunned by Harry's audacity.

"Yes, sir," Harry pressed.

"I'm not interested in what you want, Potter. I should think that that would have been obvious to you by now," Snape said significantly.

Snape stalked away and Harry was left feeling miserable as usual. The past two weeks of encounters with Professor Snape flashed before his eyes. Nothing. There was nothing. Barely a glance, barely a word. That had now just been their longest conversation since he'd begun giving Severus the space Dumbledore had asked of him. This was not what he'd been hoping for. Was this what the future held for him? His memories of Severus reduced to an unreturned hello. Hell, he'd rather be yelled at than treated like a piece of lint. Dumbledore had told him that limiting contact might help, that his pouring himself into his studies might do the same, might remind Severus of why he'd fallen in love with him in the first place. But he'd also said that if Severus hadn't regained his memories by now, it was not a good sign. Subconsciously, Harry was beginning to realize that his chances of getting Severus back were dwindling.

The thought was a paralyzing one and he instinctively needed to do something, anything at all to try and at least rectify his friendship with Severus.

As Snape made his way to the front of the class and began lecturing, Harry furtively wrote a short note and rolled up the scroll tightly. He waited for just the right moment, when Snape was looking right at him, to pass the note to Hermione.

He'd done this many times before. It had been their secret way of Harry giving notes to Severus unnoticed. Harry wondered briefly if Severus would remember.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, hands on the desk." Snape stalked forward and grabbed the note from Hermione's hand. He unrolled the scroll and read its contents: 'Can I see you for five minutes later, sir? Please. I miss you.'

Snape stared at the note for a solid minute, his face impassive, as he processed the contents of the note. Finally, he met Harry's gaze. A sudden dark gleam entered his eyes and he began mockingly, "What's this? A love note for Granger… how touching, Potter."

Harry's eyes widened to the size of saucers. There was no way Snape could have construed the note that way. "That's not what it is!"

"Oh really?" Snape asked, his voice dripping with condescension. "Since you feel so bold as to send notes in the middle of my class, perhaps I should read this aloud? Would that finally teach you a lesson?"

The question was rhetorical, but the Slytherins responded anyway, eagerly cheering for their Head of House to read the note. And Snape pretended to reluctantly comply.

"'So sorry about last night, pumpkin,' – dear Merlin, is that what you call her? – 'I didn't mean to disappoint you...'"

"That is not what that says!" Harry shouted, bolting up from his seat.

"You dare contradict me?" Snape snapped harshly, his face uncharacteristically red with anger. "Sit down! If you don't want the contents known to others, you should not be passing notes."

"'Sorry I couldn't dot dot dot, you know,'" Snape fabricated, smirking evilly. "Hmm, I can't imagine what that might mean," he continued sardonically. Eyeing the note once more, he invented more. 'Maybe you could brew a potion to help me with that problem for next time.'"

The Slytherins were over the moon, howling with laughter. Malfoy was in hysterics. Harry knew instantly he would never live this down. He looked over at Hermione, whose face had turned a shade of bright crimson.

"Potter, 100 points for passing the note," Snape said. Turning his attention to Hermione, he continued with a wicked gleam, "Ms. Granger, I'll let it slide. It's punishment enough it seems that you have Potter as a boyfriend."

The class roared.

Harry had never felt so humiliated in his life. But he pushed his own feelings aside and whispered a heartfelt apology to his close friend who'd he'd inadvertently dragged into this mess.

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It was all over the castle within minutes. Harry was with Hermione. Harry couldn't get an erection. And soon… Harry had a small penis. And eventually… Harry had no testicles. Harry wasn't a man.

Within the hour, there were a series of posters up all over the castle with explicate depictions of Harry's supposed anatomy. The Slytherins were exceptionally organized in their task – having apparently dropped everything to mobilize this effort to humiliate Harry Potter. They issued every student who would wear one a button that said: "Save Potter's pitiful private parts." On every common wall they'd placed boxes calling for donations to the buy Harry potions to save his bits.

Harry was mortified; he'd become the butt of the castle's joke. But he felt worst for Hermione. She was in some of the posters as well, sporting a confused expression on her face as she tried to figure out how to have sex with him. But perhaps even more humiliating to him than the posters and constant jokes was the fact that Severus had done this to him. Granted this wasn't his Severus, but still. Harry shuddered to think what Hermione must think of him now.

She seemed in decent spirits at the moment. It helped that they were in the Gryffindor common room, probably the only place in the castle without a visible poster.

"Hermione," Harry began, choking back tears. "I don't know what to say."

"It's alright, Harry," she replied, grabbing his hand. "It isn't your fault."

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Dumbledore slammed a flier crudely depicting Harry and Hermione together on his desk.

"How could you, Severus?" he asked forcefully, his disappointment evident.

The stern Potions professor barely blinked and began coldly, "I am not responsible for those."

"While that may be, who was it that started all this?"

"Potter sent me a note," Snape snapped. "If that note had been intercepted by the wrong party…"

Dumbledore scoffed. "Don't make this about that. This has nothing to do with maintaining your cover and you damn well know it."

"His behavior is consistently inappropriate," Snape replied calmly.

Dumbledore threw his hands up. "Look at your behavior towards him. Is it mature? I think not."

"Because he―"

"Enough! What about your behavior towards me? It is hardly professional. You have defied me in ways you would never dream of before."

"Because you're taking his side!" Snape retaliated.

"No. I'm trying to manage this insane situation. What have you done, Severus?"

"This is all Potter's fault!"

Dumbledore plopped in his chair, exhausted beyond measure with the man standing before him. He sighed deeply and began, "You've humiliated two students. Think about that."

"I don't care," Snape replied coldly, his voice and his mind devoid of any remorse.

Dumbledore studied his friend and professor a long moment, realizing that he was telling the truth. He didn't care, not in the least. With a heavy heart, Dumbledore spoke. "I don't know you, Severus. I have to take disciplinary action in this matter – I cannot remember the last time I had to do that with a professor at this school. I'm putting you on probation."

"Just fire me already. I don't give a damn," Snape replied irritably.

Dumbledore needed a breakthrough and soon. He seized on this opportunity.

"Is that what you want? Is that what you intended, for me to fire you?"

Snape's anger flared suddenly. "Stop it with this psychoanalytic bullshit!"

Dumbledore was undeterred and continued, "Maybe then you could be away from here… away from Harry."

"You really are deluded if you think I'm running away from some boy," Snape sneered.

"What did the note say?"

"Pardon?"

"The note Harry passed in class. What did it say?"

"What the hell does that matter?"

"It matters. Tell me."

"He wanted to see me. Again!"

"Hmm." He held back from asking 'and how did that make you feel?' but asked instead, "Are you feeling unwell?"

"Why the hell do you keep asking me that?" Snape asked with unconcealed annoyance.

"To be honest, I'm hoping for some logical explanation for what you just did. I can't envision you ever being capable of something like this before."

"Well then you don't know what I'm capable of."

"You're saying that only reiterates to me that you are not well."

"You're the sick one! Thinking I should be with Potter. He's a boy!

The first glimmer of hope in an eternity, Dumbledore thought. "Is that why you're so upset? Because of Harry's age? Because he's your student? You think it immoral?"

"Stop it. I don't know how on earth I ever ended up with him, but―"

"You didn't read his journal?"

"I burned it."

Dumbledore did not even react with surprise. "Why did you do that?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"I'm not discussing this. Stop trying to make this mean something."

"I'm trying to figure out what it is that's making you react so strongly to him."

"He's an insolent little cretin and he deserves what he gets."

"You're telling me you feel no regret for what you've done here?"

"No."

"I can't tell you how much it disappoints me to hear that, Severus."

A moment. "I don't give a fuck."

Dumbledore appeared unfazed, almost as though he were expecting that response. "There was a time, Severus , where you valued my opinion very highly… do you remember that? What has changed?"

Severus looked deep in thought for a moment and Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair, eager for the answer.

"I think you must be mistaken. I never gave a rat's arse what you thought of me," Snape spat with sudden venom. "I'd quit in a heartbeat if I could."

"But you can't."

Snape's eyes gleamed with rage.

"Severus, although I know you're finding this hard to believe in the moment, my intention now and always has been to help you."

"I don't want your fucking help. I don't know if you're trying to be my friend or my father or what. But you are neither," Snape said scornfully. "Keep your condescending altruism away from me and my life."

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Harry had gone up to his bedroom early this evening. Apparently even in the Gryffindor common room he wasn't immune from being asked about his relationship with Hermione. Over the past two days, the teachers had spelled the walls to prevent any fliers from being posted, but the Slytherins were managing well enough to get around the charms. And he overheard McGonagall telling another professor that Snape was doing nothing to stop them.

Following his bedtime ritual, Harry retrieved the Marauder's map from his trunk. But tonight he couldn't open it. Instead, he stared at the front of the blank parchment for what seemed like an eternity.

Throwing his feet over the side of the bed, he headed downstairs to the common room and found Hermione.

Raising a silencing charm, he told her, "Maybe… maybe Ron's right. Maybe I do need to move on."

Hermione's eyes were filled with sympathy. "Harry…"

"After everything he's done to you… I…" Harry fought to control his straining voice. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't want me anymore… he's made that pretty clear."

Harry looked down at the map in hands once more and thought about what had happened in that classroom two days ago and since.

With a calm certitude that startled Hermione, he handed her the map and said, "Take it. I'm done."

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_**Author's note:**_ I hope everyone enjoyed this long-awaited chapter. Thank you so much for your reviews of the last – I know that many of you were hoping for a happy chapter after the last, and I'm sorry to disappoint in that realm. But I'm sticking to my vision. I just hope you'll trust me and hang on for the ride. And I'm so sorry about the very long delay, but life has been and continues to be very hectic. I also updated unexpected grace a couple of weeks ago in case anyone is interested.

Meanwhile, I look forward to your thoughts on this chapter…..


	19. Albus Dumbledore is human after all

**Title: **In Memory's Wake  
**Author: **Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)  
**Pairing:** Snape/Harry  
**Disclaimer**: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**In Memory's Wake **by** CocoaSnape**

**Chapter 19: Albus Dumbledore is human**

The Gryffindor common room was typically empty at such an early hour on a Saturday morning. But as Harry made his way down the stairs from the dorms, he found his closest friend there, snuggled up under a blanket on the sofa and no surprise, immersed in a book.

Hermione's eyes drifted up at the unexpected sound of someone entering the quiet room. Seeing Harry, she promptly closed her book and beckoned him to sit. He sat down on the sofa opposite her.

"You're up early for a Saturday," Hermione remarked.

"Not really in the mood for sleep. What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep either."

Harry hesitated for a moment before asking, "Hey listen, do you have that map?"

Hermione's eyes filled with concern. Sighing deeply, she began, "Harry, you told me not to give it to you."

A flash of memory as Harry remembered his request. "You're right." It took him a long moment to believe his own words, but after careful consideration, he realized Hermione was right. "Sorry. I just… you're right." And with sudden force and resolve he continued, "Don't give it to me. Please."

It broke Hermione's heart to see Harry like this. She wanted to give him hope, to tell him not to give up, that things would be better. But she couldn't bring herself to say something that with great probability might very well be an untruth.

With a heavy voice, Harry spoke slowly. "I know it's over, I just… I'm just not ready to really ready to accept it yet." Harry laughed then suddenly, a dark despondent sound. "Even after what he's done to you."

"Harry, I can handle a bunch of stupid Slytherin jokes," Hermione said sincerely. "Besides, you're the one they're really taunting, not me. How are you handling this?"

Harry shook his head dismissively. "It doesn't bother me… well, not too much really. I mean, before this thing with Severus I think I would have been hiding in my room. But now, it's like… it's the least of my problems…"

"Speaking of problems, and before I forget," Hermione said, "I should warn you that Ron's concocted a plan to distract you. He says he's finally going to start dragging you to some of the seventh year parties you've been missing."

"Oh jeez."

They sat in companionable silence for a long minute. Hermione could tell that Harry had something else on his mind and she waited patiently. Finally, with hitched breath, Harry spoke.

"It's been over six weeks, you know. In two more weeks we'll have been apart more than we were ever together."

Hermione closed her eyes, empathizing with her friend.

"When we got together it was the craziest most impossible thing. I could barely believe I was so lucky, and I thought… well, I thought the worst was over. If you knew what I went through to convince him…"

A pause. Hermione could tell Harry was considering. She wasn't sure rehashing his relationship with Severus was the best thing for Harry right now, but she asked anyway.

"Do you want to talk about it? You never told me any of this."

"I… I want to, really I do. I just… I can't talk about it yet." But oh did he want to open those flood gates. He just wasn't sure he'd be able to close them back up afterwards.

Another silence loomed between them, this one longer than the last. Hermione watched as Harry nervously played with the hem of his shirt. Finally, seemingly out of nowhere, Harry spoke.

"I hate him right now." The confession was simultaneously unburdening and excruciating.

"That's normal, Harry."

"I know, but then I hate myself for hating him because I know that none of this is his fault. It's Voldemort's."

He'd mentioned this before in passing, Voldemort's culpability in Snape's breakdown, but no details. The fact that he'd left this out there again made Hermione believe that Harry did indeed want to talk about it.

"Voldemort?" she repeated in question.

"I can't say, but you're smart. What kinds of things could Voldemort do to someone that I couldn't tell you without compromising Severus's privacy?"

It took her less than a second, her eyes widening with comprehension and horror. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Oh my God, Harry, I'm so sorry." She paused to consider this new knowledge and she pieced it together with other information she had. "So… this is related to the PTSD then?"

"Yeah." Harry sighed, and said, "I never thought I'd say this, but I guess Voldemort's won."

"Harry—" Hermione began in protest.

"No. I'm alone again. First, he took my parents and now he's taken Severus from me. What the hell do I have left?" he asked bitterly.

Hermione stood out of the armchair and sat next to her despondent friend. She couldn't think of an answer to his question, and any words she might speak would seem hollow. The only answer she could think to give him she did so by reaching around and placing her arm around him.

Finally, Harry muttered, "I just can't get him out of my mind. I don't think I ever will."

"You need to talk about it, Harry."

"I know… just … I can't just yet."

"When you're ready, I'll be there."

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Harry spent the great majority of his weekend in deep thought.

Thinking about what Hermione had said to him. About the incredible highs of the last few months – his time spent fantasizing during his defense lessons, and then seducing Severus in those lessons and eventually in his quarters over Christmas. And then two months of unspeakable bliss, the happiest of his life without doubt. He tried to dwell on that time, but inevitably his mind strayed to the downfall and the unbearable events that had transpired over the last several weeks.

He went over it again and again in his mind. Could he have done anything differently? Guilt still plagued him as Dumbledore's words of caution entered his mind. He'd ignored them; he had instead pursued Severus despite the warning signs. That night on the Astronomy tower still left a stab of pain in Harry's gut – he'd precipitated Severus's mental collapse with that foolishness and he knew it. And even after that he hadn't left well enough alone.

Harry found the fluctuation of his emotions disconcerting. The depression he'd felt over the last few weeks had been overwhelming. And just two days ago all he'd felt was anger; he'd wanted to ring Snape's neck for putting Hermione through such hell. Now… now he wasn't sure what he felt, if anything at all. He was devoid of anger and sadness, devoid of almost all feeling. Even the tears he shed were different than those previously – they felt almost alien on his face, unattached to any specific emotion.

Previously, he'd felt strangely detached from the reality of his situation, unwilling and unable to accept it beyond face value. But the long hours of contemplation had brought about a strong and undeniable sense of resignation.

He suddenly felt an inexplicably strong urge to see Dumbledore. He hadn't seen him for over two weeks, despite the fact that the Headmaster had asked him to check in frequently. If he'd have to admit it to himself, he'd stayed away on purpose; his anger at Dumbledore had been overwhelming. The idea of punishing Dumbledore by his absence was almost laughable. Regardless, all of those grievances seemed so incredibly petty to him now. He glanced at the clock. It was very late, but he somehow doubted that Dumbledore would be asleep.

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Harry was mildly surprised that his presence wasn't immediately noticed. Normally Dumbledore anticipated his arrival before even he knew he was coming, and the oak door would open itself as he reached the top of the stairs. This time however, he'd knocked softly and received no answer. Trying the handle, he opened the door and whispered a tentative, "Professor?" No answer, although he could hear Dumbledore's soft voice from beyond the dais in the sitting room.

Making his way forward he could see McGonagall on the sofa next to Dumbledore, her hand on his shoulder. "You need to take better care of yourself, Albus. You're barely eating these days."

As Harry processed the meaning of these words, wondering about Dumbledore's health, the elder wizard sensed his presence and met his eyes.

Harry suddenly felt like an intruder. Turning around sharply, he whispered a hasty, "Sorry," and began to make his way out.

"Harry, come in, my boy. Minerva, could you please excuse us for a bit?"

"Of course."

McGonagall swept past him and the thought occurred to Harry that he was out past curfew, but she said nothing about it. As Harry approached the sitting room, he noticed that Dumbledore looked fairly pale. No wonder McGonagall was concerned.

"You look pale, Harry. Are you eating?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. "I was just going to ask the same of you, sir."

Dumbledore motioned to the large armchair and bade Harry to sit. A minute or two of silence later, it hit Harry how different this encounter with Dumbledore was from any other. He'd half expected a lecture reprimanding him for his long absence or perhaps a game of twenty questions regarding his well-being. Just silence. It struck Harry viscerally that Dumbledore was totally overwhelmed and as resigned to the truth as he.

"It's really over, isn't it?" Harry asked despite the fact that it pained him to hear his own words.

A deep sorrowful sigh.

"Please, Professor, just tell me. You look as bad as I feel. Just… just say it," Harry said dejectedly.

A reluctant but decisive nod from Dumbledore was his answer. Harry's heart clenched in his chest despite the fact that he'd already known that the response would be an affirmative. But evidently he hadn't expected such a resolute confirmation from the Headmaster.

"Harry, I'm sorry about the posters. I have the faculty take them down every night but…"

"I don't care, Professor," Harry interrupted levelly.

"Still, it doesn't excuse―"

"I know. I hated him for it, believe me. He made it really easy to forget he was sick and not just an arse."

"Well put."

"But I'm not angry anymore. It's more Hermione I was worried about through this mess, but she seems okay. She's been amazing through this actually."

"I'm glad to hear that she's been there for you, my boy."

They sat in contemplative silence for a long minute, making comfortable eye contact.

Finally Harry spoke. "I'm going to try and see him again."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise.

Harry quickly explained. "Not to… not to get him back. Just to tell him I'll leave him alone, that I understand it's over. I want to ask him to lay off Hermione. I doubt he will, but I need to ask." A pause and a deep breath before Harry finished, "And I feel like I just need to see him – just one more time alone, you know. Just because. I know it doesn't make sense."

"It makes perfect sense." Dumbledore recognized the fact that Harry needed closure, but he wasn't sure another visit with Severus would do anything more than twist the knife in a bit further. "I doubt he'll agree to see you, Harry. But, if this is that important to you, I will ask him to speak with you."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not asking you to ask him, sir. I'll go see him on my own." A moment. "I just wanted you to know."

Ever the gracious host, Dumbledore offered him a beverage and Harry asked for a butterbeer which the house elf was delighted to provide. Dumbledore ordered a pot of tea for himself and a plate of chocolate biscuits for them to share.

Nearly thirty minutes later, not another word had been exchanged between them and the biscuits remained untouched.

It occurred to Harry that he'd initiated this visit and yet he had very little to say. But he didn't feel as though Dumbledore was waiting on him. On the contrary, the elder wizard seemed perfectly content to simply sit here with him. And despite the silence, Harry realized that this was the first time he'd ever really felt comfortable in the Headmaster's quarters.

Harry mulled over the scene he'd witnessed between McGonagall and the Headmaster when he'd first entered. And eyeing the Professor now, he could discern the lines of distress on his features that he was trying to conceal. Harry knew instantly something had happened between him and Snape.

"What happened between the two of you?"

Dumbledore marveled at the manner in which Harry posed the question. Not only was it astute, but the question was posed with a matter-of-factness, maturity, and genuine concern that belied Harry's age. Dumbledore suddenly felt as though he were speaking with an old friend. In this space they were no longer student and Headmaster, but two men who'd lost the most important person in their lives.

Harry felt it too and so he pressed further. "What did he say to you? Something happened… I can tell."

Dumbledore roughly swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. He felt his own loss keenly in that very moment, being here with someone who was not only asking, but someone whom he could actually tell. And with the only other person who could truly understand.

"Nothing so humiliating as with you, my boy," Dumbledore said softly, still hedging, still unsure if he wanted to say the words aloud.

To Dumbledore's surprise, Harry remained silent, waiting patiently for him to continue.

"He ended our friendship," Dumbledore revealed. It was strange telling Harry this. But Dumbledore could sense that Harry wanted to hear it, needed to know that he wasn't the only one who'd lost so much. And Dumbledore couldn't deny his own urge to unburden himself. "He said it had never meant anything to him."

Harry's eyes filled with tears, both moved by Dumbledore's vulnerability and the emotions it stirred within him. "Like with me," he choked out. He thought he could see tears in Dumbledore's eyes as well.

"Yes."

Silence.

"I thought… I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him," Harry said, his voice tightly controlled once more.

"I am so sorry, Harry."

"So am I…"

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Dumbledore found himself saddened by the fact that he considered the faculty meeting a success based purely on the fact that Severus had not interrupted him. In fact, Severus hadn't said a single word, not even when the staff gave a detailed rundown of the efforts they were making in removing the lewd posters concerning Harry and Hermione.

Before the faculty could leave, McGonagall garnered their attention. "If I could speak with everyone involved in the End-of-Year-Ball and the Seventh year June festivities for just a few moments please."

Snape took this as his cue to exit, but was halted by the Deputy Headmistress, who reminded him, "Severus, as a Head of House, you need to sit in."

"I'd rather not waste my time, thank you," Snape replied with a sneer.

McGonagall was taken aback for a moment, but then retorted, "Then you may find yourself signed up to chaperone all the events."

"Sign me up then," Snape said scowling. "You'll do what you want regardless. You always do."

Snape exited the conference room and found to his dismay that Dumbledore was outside waiting for him.

"Severus, may I see you in private for a moment?"

"If this is about ditching Minerva's meeting―"

"It's not."

Dumbledore led the way up the spiral staircase to his quarters, aware that Severus was not at all eager to meet with him. So he did not bother to invite Severus into the sitting room as was his custom, but offered him a seat in the office instead.

"Severus, I'll get right to the point. You have 10 or so weeks left with Harry as your student and I need you to give me your word that you will behave professionally during this remaining time."

"_This_ is what you asked me here for?" Snape said with visible irritation.

"Severus, this has to stop. If by tomorrow morning every single poster is not down…"

"I have nothing to do with them."

"You control your Slytherins, Severus. You would have never allowed this to take place had it been anyone else."

Snape said nothing, but the bored look on his face said it all.

"I realize that you're unwell …"

"I am not unwell," Snape insisted fiercely. .

"Whether you choose to acknowledge that or not is an issue for another time. But that does not excuse your childish behavior."

Snape rolled his eyes in reply.

"Something has to change here, my boy."

"I believe I already told you that I'm not interested in your opinions and so-called advice. And don't call me your boy…" he said harshly.

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sorry you harbor such resentment towards me, Severus. But I assure you, I'm just trying to help you."

Snape's eyes abruptly welled with rage. "I don't need your help," he spat.

"Don't you?" Dumbledore asked calmly. "I think perhaps you need some guidance showing some modicum of respect for the students of this school."

Snape's nostrils flared, but Dumbledore continued, "Since you lost your memories, your overall demeanor has become increasingly destructive towards yourself and others."

"I don't have to listen to this!"

Determined that Severus might see reason, Dumbledore was undeterred and gave an example. "Instead of ending your relationship with Harry civilly, you made sure to do your very best to hurt him. You could have handled that differently, for his sake if not your own."

Snape's anger morphed into a mischievous gleam in his eyes, and he huffed under his breath as if finding something amusing. "You're giving me relationship advice?" he asked sardonically. "Now that's laughable. _You_ of all people?"

Dumbledore said nothing, eyeing the man in front of him as though he'd never seen him before; his shock was palpable as understanding dawned.

Snape noticed and latched on. "Oh, have I touched a sore spot?" he mocked.

It took Dumbledore a moment to find his voice, but when he did, he spoke firmly. "Severus, I'm warning you, don't go there."

"Maybe next time you'll think twice about giving me advice about my life then. You're hardly qualified after all." Almost as though he were enacting a soliloquy in a one-act play, he began dramatically, "I admit that I always did wonder what you did to him exactly…."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, the pain evident on his face. "Severus, please stop," he asked despondently.

"What are you going to do if I don't shut up?" Snape shouted. "Blow me up? I thought that's what you did to him. That's what everyone thinks, you know. Imagine my surprise when I learned that the truth was worse. That you threw him in some hole somewhere."

"You act as though you heard this second hand," Dumbledore replied heavily, trying to control the emotion in his voice. "_I_ told you this. And you know damn well that you're the only person I've ever told."

"Don't pretend you did that for any other reason that the fact that you had no one else to tell."

Dumbledore stared at the man before him in shock.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Snape asked sadistically.

Dumbledore's throat had closed up on him and he could barely believe that this was Severus speaking to him this way. He struggled to find his voice and began roughly, "Hurt doesn't begin to describe having you throw this back in my face so callously as you are now. I never would have thought you capable of it."

"You never do. You know, you need to get some real friends, Dumbledore. All you have is this school and these puerile students – do you think they give a rat's arse about you? It's pathetic really. Oh, but let me guess…" Snape continued, adopting a mocking tone, "I'm your family. I'm the son you never had. Is that what you were going to say to make yourself feel better?"

"Severus, please just leave," Dumbledore whispered pleadingly.

"No, I don't think so," Snape retorted, savoring the pain he was inflicting. "You know," he continued pensively, "I never did understand why you didn't end his life."

The first sharp edge of anger entered Dumbledore's eyes and voice, "Severus…"

Snape craved it. It egged him on like nothing else could. "At first I thought you were trying to be kind, or that you were too weak to do it, but I think I was wrong."

"Severus, I'm warning you…" Dumbledore said, his anger bubbling to the surface.

"I think maybe you wanted to make him suffer for hurting you. Maybe you thought it'd be crueler to lock him up like an animal."

"Get the fuck out of my office!"

White hot fury from Dumbledore now.

"Ah ha!" Snape mocked, "So he feels pain all of a sudden. The great Albus Dumbledore is human after all! Who knew?"

"Get out!"

Before Snape could even open his mouth to reply, he found himself flying through the air, past the oak door and roughly down the stone steps where he landed against the stone gargoyle at Minerva McGonagall's feet.

"Severus, what on earth's going on?"

Snape ignored her, stood quickly, brushed himself off and stalked off down the hall.

Despite her age, McGonagall took the stairs two at a time, rushing into the Headmaster's office. She found Dumbledore standing in a rigid pose in the middle of his office, and for a moment, she couldn't discern whether he was angry, ill, or both.

She took a few hesitant steps towards him and whispered, "Albus, oh my God, Albus, are you alright?"

In the next moment, Dumbledore's expression face crumbled, and McGonagall instinctively opened her arms. He fell into them without a word, unable to stop the sobs that spilled from his lips.

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_**Author's note:**_ Thanks everyone for your overwhelming support of the last chapter and this entire story. I appreciate and am encouraged by your kind words and patience.

Can't wait to hear what you think……….


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